


Last Woman

by samsg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Apocafic, Apocalypse, Canon Compliant, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Light Angst, POV Samantha "Sam" Carter, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1
Summary: Sam finds herself completely alone on Earth in the future. How far in the future? How can she get back? And can she prevent a galactic disaster and save the entire human race... alone?Canon-compliant apocafic, Sam POV, leanings of Sam/Jack and slight of another pairing thrown in later, but mostly gen. Some angst, adventures, planet-hopping and even Goa’uld mythology thrown in. Eventually, anyway, because ladies and gentlemen, this is an unapologetic slow burn story.Set in Season 5 before “Summit/Last Stand”, will eventually tag onto later episodes, but it’s a long story before then!
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 122
Kudos: 85





	1. Ends and Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this story has been in the works a long time *pun not intended*, but I finally got the confidence this year to write my first full-length adventure fic. This won't be as angsty as I usually write, but definitely more long-winded, with more chapters to build the length of the story so you get more of a feel for Sam's perspective.
> 
> Hoping to post chapters daily or every other daily. Currently estimating the story will come in at around 50k and 25-30 chapters long, but we'll see!  
> Un-betad, all mistakes are my own.

**Day ???**

She stood still, watching as her teammates emerged from the gate on the neutral planet they had agreed upon, approaching her cautiously. Her heart fluttered with excitement at the sight of them while her stomach squirmed in knots. After all this time, they were there, right before her, alive. Her plan had worked. But, what if they didn’t believe her? What if they didn’t think she was her? After _everything_ she’d been through, what if she was never allowed to go home?

Their expressions were serious, their weapons raised and aimed unforgivingly at her. Behind them, a team of burly marines now emerged from the gate, holding up their rear. Too much time must have passed, she realised. She didn’t even know the date. Had she miscalculated? Had she stepped through the gate too late?

“It’s good to see you, Sir,” she said, trying her best to smile and sound light despite the weight of dread weighing down on her weary soul.

“You’re alone?” the Colonel questioned gruffly, fervently choosing not returning her smile.

His choice of words and tone stung. Of course she knew he was only checking that she wasn’t about to unleash a hidden army of enemies on them in ambush. He couldn’t possibly fathom how alone she’d been for so long.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, raising her now shaking arms as non-threateningly as possible at the seven weapons pointed at her, her attempt at a smile steadily dissolving. 

“Identify yourself,” the Colonel barked at her, still scrutinizing her. “Our Carter went missing over three months ago.”

‘Thank god it’s only been three months for them,’ she thought. Her odds had just increased. Bolstered slightly, she found more strength in her voice with her reply, “I _am_ her.” Capturing his eyes and pleading with her own, she _had_ to make him believe her. “I’m Major Samantha Carter, authentication code Alpha niner Bravo Echo four zero.” She had no idea how she was going to prove that, though.

“Your hair’s long, and you’re wearing strange clothes. If you are who you say you are, and I stress _if_ ,” he said half-menacingly, as though unwilling to allow himself to get his own hopes up, “what the hell happened to you?”

She sighed. She didn’t even know where to begin. “It’s a really long story, Sir.”

**Day 1**

**March 17th 2002**

Sam was busy sealing up the final mineral sample she’d collected and was putting it in a container when she became distracted by the sound of the Colonel and Daniel’s bickering.

“Daniel, it’s an empty frickin’ quarry, for cryin’ out loud.”

“We need to check out the entire site. What if it had been a space weapon factory that had been blasted by a spaceship?”

“I do not see any visual evidence of any advanced technology, nor of any such blast, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c contradicted.

“Thanks, T. Come on Daniel, what are the chances of finding a space gun in all this rubble? What is it with you and rocks, anyway?”

“Jack, what would General Hammond say if you rushed us off this planet and there was a hidden Ancient weapon that we overlooked because you can’t wait to get back home to watch a damn sports game?”

“SG-11 can come back and do another sweep after we’re gone. You wanna fanboy over rocks with them, then knock yourself out. But Daniel, so help me if you insult the great and legendary sport that is _ice hockey_ one more time, I’m gonna-”

“Teal’c, back me up here would you?” she heard Daniel interrupt his threat, now pleading to Teal’c, as she loaded up the smaller samples into her backpack, her back turned toward them.

“I would wager that we are unlikely to find any concealed weapons on this planet. I would also wager that the Canucks of Vancouver shall be victorious tonight.”

She turned around to look at the three in surprise at Teal’c’s tone of amusement in time to catch a rare glint of humour in the Jaffa’s eyes. The Colonel immediately lit up at his friend’s support of his favourite game, leaving Daniel seething and hissing at the pair.

“Twenty bucks?” the Colonel asked Teal’c, looking thrilled.

“I do believe a wager of fifty dollars would be more appropriate. I am most confident the Minnesota Wilds shall fall.”

“Hah! You’re on big guy!” he said, positively beaming, now.

“Sam, don’t leave me with these two jocks!” cried Daniel exasperatedly at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the situation. 

“Sorry Daniel,” she spluttered, still chuckling, “but I want to get these samples back for testing ASAP. If they turn out to contain the concentration of Trinium which my initial tests show, this could prove invaluable for the X-302 project.”

“Seriously, what is it with half my team drooling over rocks today?” the Colonel sighed, making a dramatic eye roll.

“Sir, the X-302 project is Earth’s first attempt at constructing a craft capable of hyperspace flight using entirely man-made or reverse-engineered technology. That means we need all the raw material we can get, including Trinium.”

“Right,” he said pointing his finger at the sample container she was hoisting onto her shoulder. “Well your new toy better not send me and T flying into the cold of space again,” she heard him grumble.

“No, Sir, it won’t,” she said, chuckling.

“It better. So, all packed up then, Carter?”

“Yes Sir, ready to return to Earth. I’m sure you’ll all be back in time for the game?”

“Oh yes, we’ll all be back in good time to see the Wilds smash the Canucks to smithereens,” he said, throwing a sly look towards Teal’c, who merely raised his eyebrow, not taking the Colonel’s bait. “See you back at the SGC, Carter.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said in affirmation, turning around to walk the short distance to the DHD, hearing the Colonel say, “You’ve got two hours to poke around before we head back, too,” to which Daniel groaned audibly.

She sniggered at her teammate’s antics as she pushed the DHD’s symbols in sequence to dial home. It had been nice to have a simple, safe, recon mission, for once. Finding the planet lifeless and equally threat-less, the team had been able to relax, their spirits unusually high. Well, except for Daniel, perhaps, she mused. The Colonel and Teal’c were planning to watch the Stanley Cup semi-final in a few hours’ time, and she herself was very excited at the possibility that they may have discovered a more reliable source of Trinium than that of the trickles of the alloy from PXY-887. Hitting the central button, she sent through her IDC, receiving the all-clear back from the SGC, and rushed to the wormhole, eager to get the samples to the testing lab.

As she stepped through the gate, drawing in a breath as she usually did as she immersed herself in the event horizon, she readied the larger, and certainly heavier, container of samples hanging from the shoulder strap, ready to show to the General. She was hoping to ask him permission to drop off the samples at the lab first before she’d need to check in to the infirmary.

As her vision rematerialized, she was immediately struck by the unexpected darkness of the gate room. Other than the ominous, shimmering blue glow cast upon the concrete walls by the open wormhole behind her, she could barely make out the edges of the room. She also couldn’t see into the Control Room, the reinforced glass merely reflecting the image of the open gate behind her and of herself.

Exhaling the breath she’d been holding longer than usual, she instinctively drew her P90, steadily setting down the heavy container beside her feet, taking a defensive stance. The familiar loud sound of the gate shutting down sounded, and she was instantly plunged into pitch blackness.


	2. Darkness

_The gate behind her shut down and she was instantly plunged into pitch blackness._

**Day 0 (continued)**

Her ears immediately strained to pick out any scuffle of movement, any resonance of presence, but there was nothing but deafening silence. Not even the familiar background hum of ventilation or murmur of the computers, she noticed. The air was still, stagnant and even surprisingly cold, and she couldn’t help cough slightly at its stale taste, her voice ricocheting off into the dark void. Without even the emergency lighting, she’d never known until now how truly dark the inside of a mountain, hundreds of feet underground, could be. 

With a burst of adrenaline, her heart hammered away at her the shock, startling her into action. She worked fast to hurriedly flick on the sidelight of her weapon, before scrambling to dig out the flashlight stowed in her standard pack. Casting two narrow beams of light across the room, checking all around her, she found nothing at all out of the ordinary apart from four strange bundles of green draped on the floor. 

Approaching the closest pile to the bottom of the ramp, she carefully poked at it with the end of her weapon, feeling something hard hidden amongst the folds of material. Nudging the cloth aside, she unearthed a USAS-12, still fully loaded, from what she could see. Deciding it was likely safe to use her hands to investigate the material, awkwardly leaning her flashlight so she could see what she was doing better, she discovered that she was holding a pair of BDUs. _Sanders_ , she read on the pocket label, and sure enough, a glint of silver caught in the torchlight, and a pair of dog tags bearing the same name dropped out of the lining. First Lieutenant Amy Sanders. She strained her memory. She couldn’t recall there being a First Lieutenant Amy Sanders working on base, and she tended to be good at remembering personnel names, especially the women since there were so few officers posted at the mountain. But seeing as there were more pressing mysteries than a possibly overlooked name, she let it pass to check the other piles. To her surprise, however, inspecting the three other garments led to the same discovery. Three more pairs of BDUs belonging to airmen and officers whose names she did not recognise. 

She felt confused, scared, and even queasy, but she wasn’t going to get any answers alone in the dark. She needed to find someone, or at least access a computer, and to do that, she would need to get out of the gate room, and try to reach the control room that she still couldn’t see behind the glass.

Finding both the gate room’s side blast doors firmly sealed shut, she pressed her ear to the door, but there was no sound whatsoever. Nor was there even any warmth from the other side.

Done with her investigation, she concluded that she was limited to three options. One: destroy the bulletproof glass and climb up to the control room. Two: blast the blast doors with the few blocks of C-4 she had in her pack, or three: wait for a couple of hours for the rest of SG-1 to gate in and radio them before they came through. Maybe with Teal’c’s strength they could pull the blast door open. Or maybe the other guys would come up with a better idea plan of action. Or maybe in the meantime someone else on base might get the lights back, or come for her.

However, her heart now hammering faster at the thought, if this was a foothold situation rather than an accident, which, considering the strange low temperature of the room and the fact that the emergency lighting even was off, it more than likely was, then time would be of the essence. She’d only been off-world two hours while she’d collected the ore samples, she thought. How could an incursion within a two-hour time frame have left the base in this condition? From what she could see from the narrow view from her light, there was no damage to the gate room, other than it being cold and very, very dark. She thought back to the piles of clothes. The Airmen hadn't fired their weapons, either. Perhaps the aliens had used a weapon that could disintegrate bodies? If so, how could she defend against that? Setting off C-4 or shooting up the glass to get out the gate room would only attract their attention and bring them back to her. Sure, she’d managed to fend off a foothold situation single-handedly a couple of years ago, but this time she was at a huge disadvantage. She was blinded, she had no intel, and she was cut-off. No, her best bet, despite the pressing urge to bust her way out of the gate room was to sit tight, hide out, and wait for the rest of SG-1 to gate in.

Settling herself out of view in case any enemies entered the control room, and making sure to hide the sample container box and any evidence she had been there at all in case the aliens came back, she crouched behind the back of the gate ramp and turned off her flashlight and P90 light, waiting alone in the complete darkness. 

It didn’t take long before the silence and darkness filled her with anxiety. She was a woman of action, and it was very difficult to force herself to sit tight and wait in the deafening silence completely alone. The initial adrenaline starting to wear off, shock at her situation was starting to set in, and she could feel how cold the Gate Room was now. Her skin was itching, her hairs standing on end, ears straining hard to hear _anything_ , but not a single sound could be detected other than her own heart thumping against her ribs and her quickened breathing. The only thing her senses could detect was the tingly feeling of her blood reacting to the naquadah in the gate. She focused on the ‘feel’ of the gate standing before her, trying to picture its exact location and dimensions by the sense alone, like some strange echo-location, her mind appreciating the single sensory input. The feel of the gate’s presence was comforting. Even if she couldn’t access the dialling program right now, as long as she had access to the gate, she had a way out of the SGC and off the planet if need be. She only needed to wait it out for two hours, then everything would somehow work themselves out, she told herself. Sure, two hours in the impenetrable darkness certainly felt longer than any normal two-hour stint, but she had been in somewhat similar situations before- trapped alone in a dark cave off-world, imprisoned in a dark cell alone; she’d survived those times then, and she would survive this time now. 

Trying to calm her mind and suppress her thoughts from racing, she first spent some time amusing herself with thoughts of the bantering sessions she was sure Daniel and the Colonel were still surely having right now on the rocky planet. Then, she went through her usual habit of doing made up calculations with some of the standard formulae of physics; her favourite had always been calculating the imagined gravitational force between two hypothetical celestial bodies with made-up masses and radii. Once she tired of that, she took to reciting the physical constants to three decimal places, and the entire periodic table five times each before her mind tired and protested the eternal darkness and silence. Time was dragging on and on and it felt like she was sitting in a void. She’d never experienced such sensory deprivation as extreme as this. The closest experience to this was the time the Entity had taken over her body, and that had been one of the worst experiences of her entire life. On the up side, at least she had control over her own limbs this time, she thought, wiggling her fingers and toes, even if she couldn't see them. 

She soon turned to watching the time on her watch, pushing the button on the dial every five seconds to light it back up. The final hour and a half dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Surely if this were a foothold situation there would be evidence through vibrations in the ground, she thought to herself. If there were a firefight or resistance by the SGC personnel on the upper levels, surely she would feel that? Or, perhaps the disintegrating weapon had been able to make all personnel on the entire base disappear in a single shot? Had the aliens sent something through the gate first to create a clear path for them to easily escape from the base? Were they already long gone from the mountain, now attacking the citizens of Colorado Springs? Was she wasting time just sitting here on her ass when she could be making a difference, perhaps getting a warning to Washington? 

She’d made up her mind. She could feel her body temperature had already dropped on the low side; more than two hours had passed now and there was no sign whatsoever of the rest of SG-1 coming through. Unless Daniel had in fact found something of interest, it wouldn’t be like the Colonel to be so untimely. Especially not when he was still expecting to be watching the Stanley Cup semi-final tonight. Another anxiety-filled silent twenty minutes later and the gate stood ever still. As she watched as the figures on her watch tick on and on, indicating that precisely two hours and twenty-five minutes had passed, she made her move to start with Plan B. Well, Plan C-4, that was. 

Salvaging the blocks of C-4 from her backpack, she neatly affixed them to the centre of the left-side blast door. Praying this wouldn’t bring an army of killer aliens to her position, she took cover again and detonated the C-4, whispering, “fire in the hole,” to noone in particular.

Screwing her eyes to protect against the bright light of the blast, she felt the loud blast send waves of shock through the concrete surroundings. There was no way any aliens on base hadn’t heard that. Spluttering from the smoke, she trained her light beams on the hole that had appeared in the door, quickly darting through trying to avoid burning herself on the hot edge, and rushed up the metal steps to the Control Room. Quickly scanning the room with her small light, she tried to turn on the computers, but there was no response. There was clearly no power whatsoever reaching them. The emergency back up power was either off, or cut-off. Finding the wall phone dead, too, she decided to quickly stop by General Hammond’s office, stumbling over a couple more piles of clothes on the floor that she’d failed to see in the darkness on the way and feeling a crunch of glass under her step. Hammond’s red phone was also dead, and, grabbing his laptop computer and its cable and stuffing it quickly into her backpack, she made her way as fast as possible to the nearest access ladder, quietly shutting the shaft door behind her as she had done two years ago in the last major foothold situation. 

Her main plan of action was to get to NORAD on the main level, which had its own generator and phone lines completely separated from the SGC’s system, but if she deemed it safe, she’d stop and check the SGC’s own power status on the way. Assuming she could make her way up through the sub-levels safely undetected, she would hopefully be able to get in touch with the outside world from NORAD and find out more about what was happening.

Climbing was slow going in the semi-darkness, the only light from her flashlight which she’d now clipped to her tac vest constantly swaying as she climbed, making getting a handhold of the rails difficult. Hearing nothing through the access door when she’d climbed up to Level 23, she exited the silo, silently creeping through the corridor towards the breaker room. 

The corridor was mostly clear, aside from two more haphazard-looking piles of clothing. Level 23 was, after all, a generally empty level, mainly taken up by housing the power distribution grid from the upstairs power generator to the rest of the SGC facility, as well as the smaller emergency back-up system. She wouldn't expect many personnel to be here anyway. Reaching the mesh gate housing the breakers, she could see straight away that the entire panel was dead. Lighting up the panel with her torchlight, she confirmed that the switches were directed downward and in the on position, but there were no lights indicating that they were receiving power at all. With her limited torchlight, she couldn’t see the status of the emergency back-up battery, so she smashed her way in through the lock on the fence to get a closer look. Reaching the correct panel, she was floored to see that the emergency back-up battery was completely drained. If the main power drawn from either the on-base generator or off-base sources was cut, the battery would kick in automatically. It had the capability of powering the base for twelve hours, even up to a day if consumption was minimized. She’d only been off-world for two hours. There was absolutely no way the battery could have been drained in that time.

Feeling completely puzzled and feeling even more anxious to get to a working computer and confirm that the completely wild hypothesis that had popped into her head couldn’t possibly be true, she returned to the access ladder and continued her climb, this time not exiting until she’d reached sub-Level 8. It had been an exhausting climb that had taken almost twenty minutes; the coldness of the metal rungs beneath her hands had not helped her efforts. 

The corridor this time was entirely empty as it was silent. Creeping again to the small reactor generator, after five minutes’ work the hum of the generator coming online and pumping power into the base was a huge relief to hear. Seconds later, the overhead lights blinked on, temporarily blinding her. As her eyes adjusted, switching off her flashlight and weapon light, she decided she’d better vacate the level, as the power coming on would give away her position. She raced back to the emergency access ladder, not wanting to risk using the elevator, and climbed one level up to the storage level, easily finding a spacious room filled with towers of boxes serving as perfect hiding places. Leaning back against a tall stack of MRE boxes hidden from view of the entrance, she took a moment to steady her thoughts and catch her breath after the climb, feeling the tell-tale breeze of the ventilation fan beginning to work, bringing in warmer, clean air to replace the stale, cold air that had been in the room.

Pulling off her backpack, she fished out General Hammond’s laptop, lifting up the screen and pushing the power button. To her surprise, it gave no response at all. Pulling out the charge cable she found an outlet, thankful for the orange charge light that appeared on the edge of the device. Deciding to leave it to charge for a few minutes before turning it on, her mind raced as she waited. The stale air and coldness of the base, the drained emergency battery power, the dead laptop, SG-1’s failure to gate in… she was fast beginning to form a theory as to what had happened. It was a crazy theory, though. What might appear on the laptop once it turned on could help.

Giving the laptop a ten-count to charge sufficiently for a successful power-on, she saw the monitor flicker to life.

She didn’t need the General’s login for all the evidence she needed. As the Windows screen passed, the screensaver with the date displayed appeared. 

_January 1st 1990 00:00_

The laptop’s internal clock had reset to its manufacturer’s default setting. There could be only one explanation: the laptop’s internal clock battery must have died. 

She stared at the numbers, almost willing her eyes to see something different. It was a hard fact to swallow. It took _years_ for the CMOS battery in a laptop to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know from my research that the Stanley Cup semi-final is held in May/June , but I just liked the banter between Jack and Teal'c. But this story specifically takes places right after the Season 5 episode '48 Hours', so I went with the episode air dates to choose the March 2002 date.


	3. Ascent

_She stared at the numbers, almost willing her eyes to see something different. It was a hard fact to swallow. It took _years_ for the CMOS battery in a laptop to die._

She’d seen the General using his computer in his office before their pre-mission brief that morning. Or at least, from her perspective, she had. Now, however, and there no way of knowing yet precisely how much time had passed, _that_ morning had likely happened at least a decade ago. It was a depressing thought, and she didn’t even want to begin to face the ramifications of what that could mean. She had of course encountered time travel through a wormhole before; three years ago she had travelled in an outgoing wormhole from Earth that had passed through the sun’s solar flare, sending the wormhole and all if SG-1 back towards Earth in the past. This time, she had to admit, was different, though. She had been travelling from another planet this time, she had dialled with a DHD, which she had hypothesized had in-built safety protocols that should have avoided this exact situation, and of course, this time she had been a lone traveller. She pondered the situation for the moment, trying to calm her impending panic by sticking to thoughts of logic and strategy. She hadn’t seen any evidence of technology or even any life back on the planet where she'd been. There couldn’t be any other explanation for time travel other than the wormhole itself. This meant that, despite the safety protocols, there must still have been a non-zero possibility that the wormhole could have been influenced en-route to Earth, which the stargates could not have anticipated or detected. There was, she had to admit, an _astronomically_ slim chance, considering the vast emptiness of space between systems, that the wormhole could, at least in theory, have been disrupted by a random gamma ray burst on the way. Or perhaps even a monstrous solar flare from a star precisely falling in the path between the two gates. She would probably never know, and she had to be the unluckiest person in the galaxy to have experienced this phenomenon twice in three short years, but that was the best theory she could come up with to fit all the anomalies she’d encountered so far, except for the strange garments of clothing. That could still be explained by an alien incursion, she thought, but if so, who knew how long ago that must have happened? There was clearly no sign of life whatsoever on the base anymore. At least she could relax slightly, her sense of immediate threat had lessened. 

Assuming she had indeed travelled into the future, which was the theory she would go along with until she found evidence to the contrary, going off-world could be extremely dangerous without knowing how much time had passed. Her allies, her friends, even her father may well be dead by now. It was upsetting, but her best bet was to remain focused and continue with her original plan and head to the upper levels and gather as much information as possible before permitting herself to react emotionally at her present circumstances. If she could find a working computer or clock, or get the Base’s intranet up and running and access the base records, she might be able to find out what had happened, learn more of the incursion, and of course find out how far into the future she had sent. 

Though she’d never been herself, she knew that base records were kept up on Level 4. That would be her first stop. Stashing some of the stored MREs from the stack behind her, as well as a fistful of power bars she’d also found in the storage room into her pack, she closed the laptop and packed up, climbing her way up five levels to reach the records. As suspected, she found no sign of life on her way here either. 

It appeared that the base records were kept in a large office-like room, with several, large, but silent, servers lining the walls. Booting them up, she sat at the nearest desk to her with a computer. Sliding aside the mug blocking her access to the dusty keyboard, she turned her nose at the sight of its inside, caked with a striking dark green lining. The contents looked as though they had dried and moulded years ago.

The computer login screen appeared, but it wouldn’t accept her personal login despite her more than sufficient clearance level. Of course, if she really had been sent forward in time, then from the perspective of her coworkers, she must have simply vanished. Naturally her login would have long been removed from the personnel list. She thought with a pang at how her team members must have reacted when they’d returned from the mission to find that she’d never returned. They must have searched for her, wondering if she’d misdialled, or guessing, perhaps, that a power surge had sent the wormhole jumping to a nearby gate. But their search would have been fruitless. She’d have been declared officially MIA after six months, as was protocol.

Fortunately though, she knew the admin login, which miraculously hadn’t been changed. She was surprised by this oversight, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain.

While the date on the system had defaulted and was clearly incorrect, it didn’t take her long to pull up the most recent file after sorting the directory in creation date order.

_Personnel Clock In Log_

Scanning the list, mostly of names she didn’t recognize, she scrolled down to the last entries, and across to read the clock-in times. 

_09:31:24 03-04-2005_  
_09:31:59 03-04-2005_  
_09:32:50 03-04-2005_

That was the end of all the log entries. After this time, no more personnel had entered the base. Through official means, at least. _March 2005_ , she re-read. This had to be the date the base personnel had been vanished in some way that made their bodies disappear, leaving their clothes, tags, boots and weapons behind. It was as though only the organic part of their bodies had been disintegrated. Or taken, she added in afterthought. Perhaps she was looking at it the wrong way. She’d been assuming it had been an attack. Had they instead been beamed away? Not necessarily nefariously either, she thought. Perhaps they’d been rescued? Perhaps everyone was safe elsewhere, while the base had simply been abandoned? 

Regardless, whatever it was had happened three years after her disappearance. She needed to know more. Perhaps she could find clues in the database. 

She found she couldn’t access the full base archives from here, but at least here she had access to the last twelve month’s worth of accounting files, base personnel files, invoices and expenditures, in and out logs, and phone logs. Classified mission files, however, were held on another server back on Level 23, however, and she surmised it must still be turned off, or dead. While she was becoming confident by the minute that she was in fact alone on the base, she still didn’t want to risk going back down before going topside and better understanding her situation.

Leaving the room, she made the final climb up the emergency ladder to the surface. Panting from the effort of the climb, her lungs gasped at the crisp air as she finally exited the Mountain into daylight- it was either Spring or Autumn- and she was somewhat relieved to see that the sky was tinged with pink. The sun would set soon and give her cover of darkness, if needed. She made her way to the silent, yet almost full car park. Several hundred vehicles belonging to the base personnel were parked, yet most were in a state of disrepair. Some had discoloured bonnets, some bore rusted door handles, and one car, she saw, had even gained a disused bird’s nest tucked into the nook of the wipers.

Walking out of habit to her usual parking space close to the General’s priority parking area, she stopped when she found a car she didn’t recognize parked there. She recovered quickly, her eyes easily locating Daniel’s car close to her spot, neatly parked in his usual space. It seemed to be in a decent state- no animal nests, at least- and knowing that Daniel would have happily given her permission to borrow his car, keeping her weapon close to her, she smashed the window with a nearby fire extinguisher, starting at the sudden loud noise. To her relief, no alarm sounded. Thank god for Daniel’s taste in older, lesser-secured cars, she thought. Not giving any potential enemies nearby the chance to react at the smash, however, she made quick work of hot wiring the ignition, got the engine started with surprising ease, and sped out of the parking area, hurtling through the still-standing barricade at the exit checkpoint.

She soon seemed in the clear, though. There had been no movement, and she wound her way down the still mountainside, the car bumping over the occasional fallen branch and protruding roots through the asphalt. It was fair to say that the mountain was long-abandoned. She gave the car radio knob a turn, but it seemed that Daniel’s car’s audio system wasn’t working anymore as there wasn’t even static to be heard. That was unfortunate, she would have liked to have scanned the airwaves for any signals indicating anyone nearby. 

The thicker than usual bushes stretching across the road and damaged corners of the cement kept her pace slow, and she was forced to trundle down carefully the entire descent to reach the end of the road. It wasn’t until she turned onto the flat, wide highway into town that she truly spotted something that made her pull over instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters and 5k words later and Sam has climbed out of a mountain and got in a car. Did I mention this is a slow burn story? Sorry for torturing you all!


	4. Topside

_...but it wasn’t until she turned onto the flat, wide highway into town that she truly spotted something that made her pull over instantly._

As the car rolled to a stop, she put it into park and pulled the handbrake, leaving the hot-wired engine running. Stepping out of the car, she turned to look in both directions along the wide, flat, open highway. Lining the road both ways were smatterings of wrecked cars, cascaded in all directions. 

Walking up to the nearest wreck, a blue SUV, which had back-ended another vehicle in front- both now blocking the right-hand lane edgeways- she immediately saw that the vehicles were in a terrible state. The roofs were dented and weathered, the paint on the bodies of the cars eroding and patchy, and whispy grasses from the side of the road had intertwined with the frames through the smashed glass. Peering in through the bare window of the rear car, she could see the fabric of the faded leather seats cracked and sun-stained. She spotted that the keys, long rusted, were still in the ignition. Nestled below, blocking her view of the pedals, were a pair of jeans. Reaching in, she tugged them out through the window, and out fell a pair of underwear and a single sock. It was exactly like the piles of clothing back on the base. To her shock, she realised that whatever had happened there had also affected the civilians of the surrounding area. 

Investigating the car in front, this time she found the car’s windows time had survived the impact intact. Looking through the tinted windows she could just make out what looked like a crumpled up dress in the driver’s seat, and, behind it, to both her horror and sorrow, a front-facing child seat with the unmistakable clothing of a small child still held in place tucked under the still done-up chest belt, with several faded toys beside it strewn across the backseat.

Her heart pounded and ached in sympathy for the loss of innocent life through the fault of the SGC. They hadn’t been able to stop the attack, and the civilians caught up in it seemingly hadn’t even been giving any forewarning. It was as though everyone had simply vanished in the middle of what they were doing; in this instance, driving. Suddenly without a driver, the cars on a straight would have either rolled to a stop- and she could see a couple of lone stationary vehicles far in the distance- or mostly due to the variance in speeds, had crashed into those in front. 

She suddenly heard a shriek, and she startled to turn towards the source of the sound, catching sight of a pair of wild deer streaking across the road a hundred or so meters away, their bounding sending vibrations through the asphalt. Maybe it was due to her senses being sparked on alert, but as they disappeared into the brush, she couldn’t help thinking that the sound of the insects and of nature was louder than usual. There was a constant loud drone of buzzing, chirping, and even squeaking to be heard. It sounded more like the wilds of off-world she was used to, rather than the outskirts of Colorado Springs.

Quickly returning back to Daniel’s car, she pressed on, deciding there would be no point stopping to inspect any more vehicles. The sight of the vanished baby had been too depressing, and there was no reason to believe the other cars would be a different story. 

Pressing on, she found it slow-going weaving past and around wrecks and stopped cars the entire way back to Colorado Springs. She didn’t see any evidence of a single sign of human activity the entire way. As she came closer to town, her mind began replaying the day’s events as she drove along the emptier roads in this part of town. She recalled the agonizing wait of sitting for over two hours in the empty gate room alone in the pitch black. It seemed kind of stupid to her now, but she could never in her wildest dream have fathomed at the time that she had been sent into the future- the gate journey had seemed perfectly normal. Then she’d blasted her way out the gate room and climbed the entire twenty-eight levels out of the base, confirmed her time travel theory, and had found herself completely alone. So far, at least. 

The sun fell lower in the sky, and as the sky turned a darker blue, she found that she’d driven to her home instinctively without even thinking. Rolling up the street, she saw that the tree across the street a few doors down from her house had arched its thick, green branches right across the road, forming a leafy blockade, forcing her to park her car park a little away. Spotting her house, she immediately saw that the front of her house, as well as those of all her neighbours, were entirely unkempt. Wild, burly weeds and vines had overtaken her garden, and were growing up her house walls. Her roof had partially collapsed in the centre, and what still stood was now lined with mossy green tufts of grass. All her neighbours’ houses were in a similar state. The quaint, well-to do suburban neighbourhood she’d driven from that morning- from her perspective at least- now looked entirely like an eerie run-down ghost town, even more so in the fast-approaching twilight. The silence, too, apart from a murder of crows welcoming the twilight with incessant caws, was creepy, to say the least. Unsure of what she’d find, or even if her friends would have even kept her house for her until their disappearance, she rammed her front door in, brushing off the disintegrated paint that cascaded onto her clothes at the force, and entered her hallway. 

A strange smell immediately hit her nostrils. Looking down, she clocked the moth-eaten running carpet that wasn’t hers. Entering her living room, she saw that it looked completely different. She didn’t recognize any of the furniture. A family now lived here, from what she could deduce from the scattered, dusty toys and books on the floor. Her house must have been sold after she’d been declared MIA. The strange smell got fouler as she approached the kitchen- there must have been spoiled food trapped in the long-unopened fridge- and, deciding it wasn’t worth further investigation, she exited the house, returning to Daniel’s car, and sat in the driver’s seat, thinking over her next move.

Daniel’s apartment was too far downtown, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get his car down the narrower, undoubtedly car wreck-filled roads in the centre of town anyway. Janet and Cassie’s house wasn’t too far away, but she noticed that none of the street lights were coming on despite the fast-fading light as the sun approached the mountain line. It was safe to assume that the local power supply, if not the entire state grid, was offline, and driving in a built up area with obstacles on the road in the pitch black would be dangerous, even with the car headlights. The temperature was fast dropping, too, she registered with a shiver. She’d need to wait out the night somewhere safe and warmer than Daniel’s car to wait for the sun to come up in the morning. The Colonel’s house was the closest, she concluded, and putting the car into drive, she made a beeline for her CO’s house before the sun fully set.

She found his front door unlocked, and let herself in swiftly, feeling relieved to recognize his decor even in the low light. Flicking the light switch in the living room to no avail, she made her way to his darkened kitchen using the P90 she’d been carrying’s side light as a guide, pulling out his emergency stash of torches, matches and candles from the bottom cupboard next to his fridge. She knew about those because she’d caught a young Cassie raiding all his cupboards and almost setting fire to the house when she’d first come to Earth, she recalled with amusement at the memory of the raucous that had ensued. She found the matchboxes well preserved, and she soon had a half a dozen or so candles lit, giving the room a rather cozy feel. At least his kitchen didn’t have a strange smell as her own house had; fortunately for her, the Colonel tended to rely on take-outs and dried noodles for meals- an ingrained habit of serving the military for so long, she presumed- rather than cooking with fresh groceries.

Carrying four candles with her back to the dark living room, she delicately set two on the coffee table, before almost dropping the other two at the sight of the couch now visible in the candlelight. Her heart stopped to see that there, draped haphazardly over the sagged seat that was his usual spot, was the unmistakable sight of the Colonel’s jeans and his favourite grey Air Force sweatshirt. An empty glass bottle of beer, too, lay nestled in the grey, surrounded by a long-since dried stain of beer that must have spilled out, leaving a discoloured patch in the material. 

She simply stared at the sight. She couldn’t breathe. He must have vanished, she realised, in this very spot. The Colonel was dead. And not just the Colonel. _Everyone_ was. The entire city was dead, and she was completely and utterly alone.

The shock hit her. Her mind reeled as the exhaustion of the day’s events caught up to her. Her body was drained of all fight. She collapsed on the sofa, pulling the discarded sweatshirt to her face, and drew in its ever-so-faint lingering smell of beer and that something that was so uniquely and comfortingly _him_. Curled up and still hugging his clothes, she soon fell into unconscious oblivion.


	5. Morning

_Curled up and still hugging his clothes, she soon fell into unconscious oblivion._

**Day 2**

The roar of birdsong startled her awake. Her eyes flew open, before screwing in protest at the dazzle of sunshine streaming through the open windows. She found herself completely disoriented until the flood of memories of the previous day hit her. Her heart sank at the feel of denim under her grasp, and looking downwards to her hands, sure enough, she saw she was clutching the Colonel’s jeans; his sweatshirt she must have draped across her legs in her sleep to defend against the cold. Yesterday’s events hadn’t been a bad dream, after all, she realized sadly. 

She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but getting comfortable seemed impossible squeezing on the tiny couch. Also, she was cold, thirsty, and, as her bladder reminded her, she hadn’t made use of a bathroom at all since her return to Earth yesterday. Not to mention there was the raging racket of birds and insects from outside the window. There was nothing for it, she concluded, she was up for the day. Glancing at her watch- which of course displayed the incorrect time- informed her that she had slept a solid seven hours. That was more than she slept on a weekend, she noted. At least she was well-rested.

Heading for the Colonel’s bathroom, she found his toilet completely dry of water. Trying the sink taps, she found that they did not produce any running water, either. Not wanting to stink up her CO’s house, she unlocked the latch on the back porch doors and relieved herself at the end of his garden. She was, after all, more than used to answering the call of nature outdoors after four and a half years of off-world missions. This wasn’t off-world, however, and the number of yelps and howls she could hear of nearby wildlife startled her. Nature had certainly been left to reclaim its land in however many years without people and moving cars. The wildlife now living in Colorado Springs would have little to fear of her, and she’d have to take extra precautions.

Finished, she returned to the house and locked the back door, entering the kitchen. She spotted the melted candles and became grateful that they had simply burned themselves out rather than burning the house- and herself- down. She really must have been exhausted to have made such a careless mistake, she thought. Next, she raided the Colonel’s cupboards, rejoicing at finding some bottled soda hidden behind a particularly large supply of beer packs. Not even bothering to look at the expiry, she opened the cap, gulping down the still-faintly carbonated and rather plastic-tasting contents, before digging out some food cans and preserves. The can of minestrone soup seemed most appealing. Its label might have become papery thin with age and practically fell off as she picked it up, but she knew its contents should still be safe even if several decades had passed. Her strong hunger belayed the desire to look for a spoon, and she simply splayed the top open and necked the contents, her body instantly energized by the salty taste.

Her next pressing issue was the cold. She made quick work of setting a fire in the Colonel’s living room hearth with his stockpile of chopped wood, before heading to his bedroom to retrieve some extra layers. She’d never been in his bedroom before, and felt strangely awkward invading his privacy, but she also didn’t want to have to resort to wearing the beer-stained sweatshirt he’d been wearing when... when _it_ had happened, she thought. Besides, another important resource in his bedroom that she knew of and might need was his stored pistol. 

She found the curtains here were drawn open, too, and the morning sunshine rained down on his central, unmade bed. She couldn’t stop herself from fixing it up for him, pulling the sheets straight and arranging the ruffled blanket in a kind of ritual of respect. Fluffing up and setting his pillow down neatly, she spotted three framed photographs arranged on his bedside table. She saw that naturally there were two of his son, Charlie, but to her surprise, she saw that there was also a photograph of _her_. Not a group photograph, but of _just_ her. Her stomach squirmed as she looked more closely at the photograph. At first she couldn’t place when it had been taken, but then she recognized it as being from the day that she and the Colonel had taken Cassie to the zoo together. She recalled that Janet had been there too, of course, but just as they’d arrived she’d been called away to a medical emergency back on base. Then it had become just the two of them alone staying on with Cassie, guiding her around, teaching her all the names of the Earth animals. It must have been a couple of years ago (for her at least), because it hadn’t been long since Daniel had lost Sha’re, which was why he hadn’t joined the zoo day, and Teal’c had pledged to stay on base to atone for the death of Sha’re at his hands.

She recalled with embarrassment what had happened when the three of them had eaten lunch at the zoo cafe. The waiter had referred to her and the Colonel to Cassie as ‘Mommy and Daddy,’ and then despite her mortification, the Colonel had surprised her by not batting an eyelid and answering the waiter calmly, giving their menu order. She must have blushed heavily, however, because he’d given her a playful shrug and then a smile and a wink, and she hadn’t been able to stifle the impact of these small gestures on her heart. She’d then gone on to secretly spend the rest of the day imagining that they _were_ in fact Cassie’s parents, and she’d enjoyed the day of light humour and banter. They’d even strayed into the territory of dropping a few ‘Sams’ and ‘Jacks’ into conversation, too. After all, they’d been off-duty, hanging out with a kid, and it had been entirely innocent and harmless. Except, it hadn’t been harmless. For the first time, she’d had to actually come face-to-face with the fact that her feelings for the Colonel had at some point extended beyond those of admiration and physical attraction for her commanding officer. That she’d somehow become able to envisage them having a future together. Maybe even having a _family_ together someday. And now, she wondered if he, too, had possibly had the same thoughts about him and her? Did he also think of that day fondly? Was that why he’d chosen to keep this picture beside his bed?

‘Focus, Sam,’ she suddenly reprimanded herself. She needed to stay objective and focused if she was going to figure out what had happened to everyone, and what her next steps would be. There was no time for distractions and wondering about the Colonel’s hypothetical thoughts or possible feelings for her. She walked purposefully over to his closet and pulled open the shutter doors, only to be slapped in the face by the sudden rush of smell that was so distinctly _him_. She mentally kicked herself for not anticipating it. Of _course_ the Colonel’s closet full of his clothes and belongings would still smell like him. Sighing, she grabbed a large-sized sweater that was hanging, and as she pulled it over her head, she couldn’t help think that it felt like he was there, holding and comforting her. ‘So much for staying objective, Sam,’ she mentally scolded herself.

She bent down to rummage at the bottom of his closet to search for the safety box that she knew was there. Despite the light of the room, it was difficult to see the back of the closet from this low angle. Her hands soon found a firm cardboard box, and she heaved at it to make space to better continue her search, before stopping when the cursive handwriting on the box caught her eye. _Carter_ , it read. She pulled it out to better see it in the sunlight and let it settle heavily onto her lap. There could be no doubt. The Colonel had tenderly spelled her name clearly on the lid of the box with a marker. Heart hammering, she decided to open it.

Unfurling some plastic packaging, on the top inside she found a service dress coat neatly folded, nestled in the wrapping. Raising it up from the box, she saw her award ribbons and name tag pinned to the breast. It was her dress coat. He’d kept it. Her hands began shaking, and she knew she was becoming distracted by this diversion, but she couldn’t help investigating the rest of the box’s contents. 

Setting aside her dress coat and removing the remaining package, she was surprised and moved by what was beneath. He’d collected a stash of trinkets and memorabilia of her belongings. Some were of a straightforward nature. Among the items she identified his copy of her car and house keys, her base photo ID (she couldn’t believe he’d swiped that), her combat bracelet from when she was in the Gulf, her rank insignia pins in their presentation box, and he even had her pHD certificates. But some were much more personal. There was the birthday present she’d given him a couple of years ago. There was her DVD of Singing in the Rain, which she knew he hated. There was the practically falling apart astronomy picture dictionary she’d treasured since she was a child, and also her equally worn-with-use Major Matt Mason figure that she’d kept over the years. She guessed her father and brother must have received the bulk of her possessions when they’d cleared and sold her house, but the fact that the Colonel had held on to these things of her meant so much to her.

Repacking the box, but deciding to put on her combat bracelet as a reminder of her new mission- to find out what had happened to the Colonel and everyone else- she moved it out of the way, her eyes lingering again briefly on the way he’d carefully written her name on the lid, before finally unearthing his boxed gun. The gun and some ammunition retrieved, she replaced everything, making everything look untouched out of courtesy rather than logic, and headed back to the living room.

She stowed his gun into her backpack, before her eye was caught by a framed photograph on the television cabinet top. Picking it up, she saw it was a birthday party. Cassie was sitting in the middle, looking definitively more mature with more defined cheekbones than when she’d last seen her. She saw that she was holding a cake that read, “Happy 18th.” Next to her were Daniel, Teal’c, the Colonel, and she couldn’t help notice that Janet was strangely absent. She must have taken the photo, she surmised, even though the awkward angle of the shot seemed to suggest it was a self-taken timer photo. Also, despite the occasion, she also didn’t miss a subtle sadness in their faces, particularly in Cassie and the Colonel’s eyes. Deciding it was better not to jump to any conclusions, and quickly calculating that this photo would have been taken only five months before everyone’s disappearance, she decided to take the photo with her, guessing it would probably be the most recent, and perhaps, _only_ group photo of those who meant the most to her that she would come across.

Crossing his living room, she took a moment to perch on his armchair, needing to decide her next move. Considering her options, skimming her fingers unthinkingly along the rim of the metal frame under her hands, gazing at the Colonel’s greyer hair and handsome, yet somewhat haunted, eyes in the picture, she surmised that she had two priorities. The first was of course to find any living people and make contact with them. The second was to find out exactly how much time had passed. Okay, she thought, the second wasn’t specifically a priority, but the issue would certainly nag at her. It would also be useful to know the year if, in the event that she found no one on Earth- and that was certainly an ominous thought- she would be looking at having to travel off-world for assistance, or perhaps even, for permanent relocation. It would definitely help to know how much time had passed before contacting off-world allies.

Deciding that the nearest city would at least give an answer to the second conundrum, and might hopefully shed light on the first, grabbing her pack, she headed for the front door. 

As she reached the entrance, she spied something beige on the floor, poking out from under the door mat- she hadn’t seen it yesterday when she’d entered in the near-darkness. Reaching down to pick it up, it was a letter, wrinkled with age. She could just barely make out the faded grey words _“University of California Los Angeles”_ printed on the bottom. Ripping open the envelope, she slid out the enclosed paper, her eyes quickly scanning its contents. It was an invoice for campus accommodation under the name of Ms Cassandra Fraser, dated March 1st 2005. She quickly checked the address- yes, it was addressed to him. If it had been sent here, then that could only mean that the Colonel had been footing her university bills, and recalling the photograph without Janet, she realised it could only mean one thing: Janet must have died. 

She stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the paper, searching her brain for some other explanation, but there couldn’t be. It had been arranged when Janet had fully adopted Cassie that in the case of her death, Sam was legally next in line to become Cassie’s guardian, including covering all her costs. The Colonel had been third in line. She didn’t know why, but it seemed much harder to accept Janet’s death rather than the loss of those who’d been ‘vanished’. She’d seemingly actually died; she must have been grieved for, and missed by all her friends. They’d have had a memorial ceremony that she’d missed. The thought occurred to her that they must have done the same for her, too, she thought glumly. 

Looking at her combat bracelet, she recalled she’d have time to grieve for everyone later, but she had to focus on her mission.

Stuffing the envelope in her pack too, she put out the fire in the hearth, and decided to fold up the Colonel’s clothes on the couch neatly. It just seemed right. Then, with a somewhat sad backwards glance- she probably wouldn’t ever see his house again- she located the Colonel’s truck keys, and headed outside to the garage, which she managed to open with a lot of force on the rusted shutter. She startled at the sight of her Indian 1940 coming into view, parked next to the Colonel’s Ford 250. He'd kept her bike, too, she saw with a pang. It looked like he, or someone else, had worked on it, too. She saw the saddle had been changed. Had the Colonel ridden it, perhaps? As tempting as taking the road trip on her bike was- weaving through traffic would certainly be easier- she'd need space to store supplies, and there was a possibility that she may run into more large wildlife on the journey. She’d already seen the large wild deer yesterday, and it would take at least two hours to reach her destination. If she ended up facing any more wildlife, she would feel safer seated higher in the Colonel’s taller truck than on her bike or even in Daniel’s flimsy old car. 

She spent some time loading a box full of the Colonel’s remaining bottles of soda, some cans, a can opener, and her pack into the passenger side of his truck. Feeling extremely grateful to the Colonel for keeping his truck filled with gas, as well as for the pack of chewing gum in the cupholder space, one of which she popped into her mouth, she started the engine, its roar startling the flock of birds that had been resting in the tree still draped across the street. Driving through its branches, she set off in the glare of the morning sunshine, heading north onto the I-25 for Denver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far! I'm afraid work has caught up to me- funny how spending every night of the past three weeks writing this story winded up biting me in the ass! Despite writing this chapter a while ago I just spent way too much time adding Jack/Sam fluff to this chapter (sorry not sorry), but the next chapter is straightforward so I hope to post it tomorrow. If not, definitely by Tuesday night (Asian time) when work things will have calmed down on my end. Stay tuned!


	6. Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I just want to say that I've never been to Colorado, and my descriptions of the layout is just based on google maps and my imagination.  
> Also I have no intention of triggering anyone or upsetting anyone of my imaginings of the state of the city that Sam finds it in. I have had the misfortune of being in a couple of natural disasters where I have seen some devastation on the streets, and I'm kind of drawing from that.

_Driving through its branches, she set off, heading north onto the I-25 for Denver._

This time when she made a move to turn on the car radio, she was pleased to hear the sound of static- at least it worked. But as she adjusted the knob to flick through the various channel frequencies, she found that the static sadly persisted. There were no radio stations broadcasting within range to be heard.

Reaching the highway again, she found it in the precise same condition as yesterday evening, except that as she approached the centre of Colorado Springs, driving northbound, the turn-offs into the centre of town became even more densely littered with old accidents. It quickly became slow progress to pass by. Several times she became forced to drive off-road to skirt around the obstacles, making her grateful for the truck’s powerful and efficient four-wheel drive system.

Finally passing by the residential area of North Colorado Springs, she reached the more open countryside area, where the lanes opened up wide allowing her to drive at a more palpable speed. 

She soon passed by the Academy, making her think back to the last time she’d visited. From her perspective, it had only been a few, short months since she’d attended the Cadets’ graduation ceremony, offering her personal congratulations to the freshly promoted Lieutenants that had been scouted during their final year for the SGC’s Training Program. Elliott and Grogan had been handpicked by General Hammond himself on a routine visit to the Academy, Colonel Reynolds had chosen Satterfield for her linguistic skills, and of course Hailey had been her own find. She smiled at the memory of the heartfelt thanks that Hailey had given her after the ceremony for believing in her. She’d been incredibly proud to see that Hailey had matured and wisened enough in such a short time to show such humility. She still had that flair of arrogance, but truth be told, that self-confidence would probably serve her well in their male-dominated world. But by shedding that chip on her shoulder, she’d successfully earned the respect of Colonel O’Neill, and had recently passed the Training Program, waiting to be assigned an SG team, helping out the science department in the meantime while she awaited her official placement.

Beyond the Academy, the interstate became even emptier and wilder still. She didn’t remember there being this many trees lining the highway the last time she’d visited Denver. It must have taken several decades for these new trees to grow so tall, she thought glumly. As the morning rolled on, the sun continued its climb in the sky, heating the cabin of the truck, making her uncomfortable. Rolling down her windows to allow in the fresh, mountain air, she heard a few howling calls of wolves from the mountain line running parallel to the road. From the smell of the cedar pollen and the sight of the greenery blossoming thickly along the worn-down route, she guessed it was spring, and that would mean it was mating season. 

A further hour later the traffic pile ups built back up at her approach to the city. As did the build up of run-down surroundings. Dilapidated stores and factories now lined the road, overgrown with thick grasses, vines and green. Pockets of entirely silent residential areas, empty schools, and markets with collapsed roofs popped up more and more. Soon the blockade of rusted, crashed cars became impassable, and there was no choice but to abandon the I-25, forcing her to take the long way round to skirt east around the city to avoid the worst of the traffic, taking her past Denver Airport. Another five minutes of slow driving later, however, she startled at the sight of a derailed train that had fallen off the overpass ahead. It crossed the entire lanes of the bypass she was on, bringing down with it part of the bridge and the entire metal barrier that had scratched and buckled around the train cars before sweeping a path of destruction into the cars below. It was a scene of utter devastation. She slowed her approach, taking in the sight of the smashed windows of the twisted cars, their wheels upended, and the sudden sight of a family of rabbits bounding out from the rear car, disturbed by her truck noise. 

She decided to stop the truck and kill the engine to listen. There was absolutely no movement at all. From this raised vantage she could see the skyline of the city she knew so well, but there was no smoke, no pollution, no moving infrastructure. Not a sign of life, whatsoever. Human life, at least. The airport, too, was just visible in the distance to her right. The tips of tails of its grounded aircraft made it look more like a mausoleum than the bustling hub she’d always known it to be.

She sighed. As far as she could tell, she was completely alone. The effects of the attack had reached here, at least a 130km radius from the SGC. Turning the radio knob again and again finding nothing but static, there was no reason to believe other than that the entire state was silent and lifeless. She took a pause, opening up one of the Colonel’s soda bottles to quench her thirst from the hot drive, except it must have been shaken from the journey as it suddenly fizzed and spilled onto the Colonel’s shirt that she was still wearing.

“Damn,” she said, opening the truck’s glove compartment to search for tissues, only for her hands to clasp around a small, circular object. She pulled it out, momentarily forgetting the wetness seeping through to her torso. It was the Colonel’s yo-yo. The very same one she’d seen him play with countless times off-world. It had always amused her that such a highly-respected and authoritative figure in the Air Force could be so fidgety and childish, yet his boyish tendencies had never failed to charm her. 

She set down the dribbling soda bottle and held the small toy in her hands, running her fingers over its various bumps and ridges of wear. She was in his truck, wearing his shirt, drinking his soda, holding his favourite plaything; she was sat there surrounded by everything him and yet… he wasn’t here at all. _No one_ was. Staring at the empty train carriages smashed across the road, she thought of all the people who must have been aboard on their morning commute, ready to start their days when they’d just simply disappeared. It was just so cruel. Clutching the yo-yo, she turned it over to recognize the bear logo of his favourite hockey team. How had she never noticed that before? At the sight of it, the memory of the last conversation she’d overheard him have hit her. He’d never make her smile and laugh again with his banter and humor. She’d never hear his voice again. She wished so hard that he’d accompanied her on the gate trip back. Or better yet, rather than dooming him, too, she wished that she’d stayed on with the guys until mission end. Had she not been so excited to get those damn ore samples back early, it was more than likely that none of this would ever have happened. They would have gated home together two hours later, the wormhole unaffected by the flare or whatever had happened, completely none the wiser of the potential fate they’d avoided.

Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she screwed her eyes shut, fighting in futile against the onslaught of tears that came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter ended up being re-written as a sad one. I tend to do that a lot :/
> 
> Also, I for one did not know that the Air Force Academy was just north of Colorado Springs until I wrote this. I'm surprised Sam didn't spent more time lecturing there. Or maybe she did off-screen.
> 
> The next chapter will be a short one, sorry, but it should be up tomorrow despite being temporarily swamped with work.


	7. Boulder

_Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she screwed her eyes shut, fighting in futile against the onslaught of tears that came._

Recovered from her breakdown, she leaned back into the Colonel’s driver’s seat and stared at the garbled metal of the train before her. This wasn’t the time for crying or feeling sorry for herself, she affirmed. Sure she was alone this time, but she’d been stuck in the wrong time before, and gotten back. She knew a little more about temporal and solar physics now. She had to stay positive. And besides, maybe her circumstances weren’t as bad as they appeared. She’d surely find a way, or someone who could help, just as she always did.

Finding new strength, she wiped her tears and nose with the pack of tissues she found in the compartment and downed the bottle of soda, grimacing at the strong taste of plastic. She’d need to find a source of water other than bottles, she thought. She’d already exhausted her mission water supply, but she couldn’t keep drinking bottled beverages seeped in microplastics from the slow breakdown of the container. Maybe she could find a river for water, she thought.

Taking a cleansing breath, she started the engine, the sudden roar of sound harshly cutting into the silence. She backed up, forcing the four-wheel drive system to take her off the road, and climbed the verge, finding a passable route across the thick grass and fauna heading north.  
Then, she turned west when she found her way back to the highway, and headed straight for the town of Boulder under the far-distant mountain line, finally reaching her destination after what her body clock told her must be lunchtime. Her stomach had certainly begun protesting the long trip. 

Turning into the car park, she easily found an empty spot near the entrance. The concrete building before her was quite beautiful, the dust-stained and weather-worn rising glass windows still intact, catching the reflection of the partially snow-capped mountains surrounding it. She’d visited here as a young teenager with her mother while her father had been briefly stationed in nearby Wyoming, wanting to visit as research for a science project for the school she attended at the time. It had been a fun mother-daughter road trip, probably their last, in fact, before her death, but it remained a happy childhood memory. She remembered the neat gardens out front- now overgrown and wild of course- and the orchard out front that still the building, now with sprawling pastel pink peach blossoms. It was unmistakably spring. She read NIST on the side of the building, except that the ‘N’ sign was now hanging on its side, reading more like ZIST, she thought bemusedly. 

Fishing out a pack of still palatable biscuits she’d found at the Colonel’s house, she satiated her stomach before digging out her weapon and flashlight from the backpack. Exiting the truck and deciding to leave it unlocked in case she’d need to leave quickly, she approached the silent building and manually slid open the inoperable automatic glass entrance doors to the National Institute of Standards and Technology.

Entering the wide, sun-lit lobby, she was immediately forced to step over a few piles of undisturbed clothing, spotting one or two white lab coats in the far end of the entranceway. The effects of the weapon had certainly reached here, too. She stood still for a moment, ears pricked to catch any movement of disturbed animals that may have taken up residence, but all was thankfully still. Following the signs indicating to go down the central spiral stairs- she remembered going underground the some twenty years ago when she'd visited- she turned on her flashlight and headed below. 

The narrow corridor she entered was lined with closed doors to various laboratories. The Institute was, after all, home to all kinds of atomic, molecular, optical and precision measurement research. Shining her light into some of the rooms, the beam of light caught sight of laser equipment, process chambers, and there were various rooms filled with wire-laden workbenches. She recalled her excitement when she’d visited here, imagining that in the event of her dream of becoming an astronaut failed, she’d love to instead become a scientist with a lab of her own just like one of these. She smiled at the memory, contented by the thought of how her life had in fact turned out, barring current circumstances, of course.

Catching another sign indicating what she was looking for, she followed the directions down two more levels of dark laboratories underground, before finding a large push door with various warnings of “Keep out” and “No unauthorized personnel” plastered over it. Ignoring the bold signs, she pushed her way through the flap doors, greeted by the sound of a low humming and the sight of a dull red glow cast inside the wide room. 

“Thank god it’s still on,” she whispered to herself, before her heart began to hammer as she neared the source of the sound and light: the towering NIST-F1 Cesium Fountain Atomic clock, almost reaching the height of the ceiling. She was suddenly terrified of what she was about to find. Below it stood a glass panel, encasing a red LED display. Her eyes were drawn to the top lights, reading “USNO MASTER CLOCK.” This was the the most accurate atomic clock in the United States, the timekeeping device tasked with providing the entire country with the most accurate measurement of time.

Her eyes then fell upon the ticking LED figures displayed below the label “Master Clock Distribution”, and gasped. She had her answer. 

_03.29.42 13:05:35_

March 29th 2042, she re-read. She’d travelled almost precisely 40 years into the future. 

What on Earth was she going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray, we finally have an answer to one question!! 
> 
> When this story came to me pretty much fully-formed in my mind I always planned to have Sam locate an atomic clock to find out the true time. Imagine my surprise to learn that the atomic clock that dictates the entire country's time is housed just north of Denver!  
> I have to say that I totally geeked out learning about the Institute and what they research there, and that led me to totally imagining Sam having the same feeling, hence the backstory.
> 
> I'm going to assume that the clock, considering its importance, has its own sustainable power source in the event of a power outage, though I couldn't actually find the information online.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	8. Creek

_She’d travelled almost precisely 40 years into the future._

_What on Earth was she going to do?_

\----

 _“...on Earth…”_ she repeated the thought to herself. 

There was possibly nothing she do on Earth. There were no radio signals, there was no power, there was no sign of human life whatsoever. Short of stealing an aircraft from Peterson and flying across the country to check the situation, of course. She immediately scrapped the flying idea, however. Who knew how many microfissures the hull of an aircraft could develop sitting disused in a hangar for four full decades? There’d be no one to rescue her from a wreck, and, following the frankly disturbing assumption that she was indeed the last remaining person on Earth, her safety was now of paramount priority. Decision made, she synced her watch to the atomic clock’s measurement for posterity, and made her way out of the Institute- her eyes dazzled by the midday sun upon her return to the bright, glass lobby.

As she returned to the Colonel’s truck, she decided on a quick picnic of canned beans and soda sitting under a blossoming tree. A light breeze blew through the branches, scattering a shower of petals around her. It was a beautiful sight, surrounded by the pink blossoms with the green of the mountains stretching across the horizon. She could just make out a pack of coyotes on the distant mountainside, and she enjoyed watching them, the smaller-looking dogs, last year’s brood of cubs, perhaps, imitating the older canines sniffing and rustling for food in the brush. She wished she was sharing this moment with Cassie, who loved animals so much. Last she’d known, she still hadn’t decided whether to become a veterinarian or to follow her mother’s footsteps and become a doctor. She wondered what major she’d chosen at the UCLA. She felt saddened that she’d missed out on Cassie becoming an adult and starting college. What other special moments had she missed?

The dogs disappeared from view, and done with her picnic, she took one last look at the blossoms, breathing in their gentle fragrance, before returning to the Colonel’s truck, deciding this time to take the more mountainous route south. There was a higher chance of encountering wildlife this way, but she didn’t want to pass the ghost city of Denver again and another train wreck if she didn’t have to, and she hoped for clearer roads and easier driving for the way back.

She soon decided she’d made the right choice. This route home gave splendid views as she passed through several Mountain Parks on her way back to Stargate Command, and as she came to a bridge passing over a rather large creek, she decided to stop the truck and take a look. The fast-flowing water was a pristine, crystal colour. Without hesitation, she returned to the truck to retrieve the empty plastic bottles she’d accumulated in the passenger leg space. Packing them in her backpack and hooking it over her shoulders, she nimbly climbed over the rail and down, dangling from the edge of the bridge before dropping from a height of about five feet down to the pebbled shore. Checking the coast was clear in both directions, she swilled and rinsed the first bottle before filling it up with the clear water, holding it up to the sun and marvelling at its clarity. Pressing the bottle to her lips, she took a few sips of the cool water, before deciding it tasted safe and consumed half the bottle. She didn’t think she’d drunk water this pure in months. It was incredible how much nature had returned to its natural state in only four decades without human activity and pollution. 

She quickly filled it back up, along with the other plastic bottles, as well as her mission bottle, packed them up and donned the now much heavier backpack. Positioning herself on the highest rock beneath the bridge to give her a head start, she deftly jumped up the short distance and hauled herself up the rail above. A simple feat compared to the obstacle course back at the Academy, she thought musedly.

As she began to hoist herself up and over the rim of the bridge, the truck came into view and she froze at the sight before her. A magnificent-sized elk with impressive horns was stood beside it, sniffing at the driver’s window with its back to her, not even three meters from her position. The rushing sound of the creek below must have muffled its approach as she hadn’t detected the sound of its hooves on the tarmac. Thank god she’d shut the truck door out of habit when she’d gotten out, or the situation could have been much worse, she thought.

Luckily it didn’t seem to have noticed her, and she watched on as the elk continued its investigation of the truck. The effort of clinging on to the side of the bridge with both hands, however, soon become tiresome. She also realized that she couldn’t reach for a weapon in this position, either; she’d be defenseless if it turned and spotted her and made a charge for her. Judging it could be a while before it lost interest and walked off, she surmised she’d have to try and spook it safely. 

Dropping back down to the bank of the creek again as silently as possible, she crept along the bank several meters until the truck on top of the bridge came into view behind her. From here she spotted a second elk with smaller horns, possibly the first one’s mating pair, approaching the bridge from the treeline to the left. Her problem had doubled.

She chastised herself for leaving the P90 on the passenger seat, but at least she had the Colonel's pistol. Removing her backpack, she withdrew it, checking the barrel was loaded and clicked the safety off. She had no intention of hurting the creatures, of course. She carefully aimed for the rail of the bridge, about three meters to the right of the truck, and took the shot. The ensuing bang ricocheted through the valley, and the two animals instantly bolted in a frenzy, disappearing into the brush.

\-----

Fortunately the remainder of the drive was without incident, and it was just after five o’clock when she arrived back at the SGC. Parking the Colonel’s truck in an empty space in the priority parking, she decided again to leave the keys in the ignition and the truck unlocked. Security wasn’t exactly a pressing issue when you were all alone. She stowed the Colonel’s yo-yo in her pack’s front pocket alongside the photo of Cassie’s birthday, then, readying her P90 simply as an ingrained precaution, she exited the vehicle. 

Finding the base as still as ever, she walked through the main entrance, walking down the dark passageway, using her weapon’s sidelight. As she passed through the SGC’s checkpoint, she noted that the pair of clothes just beyond the barrier lit up in the dim light must have belonged to the personnel last on the list of the clock-in log she’d read the day before.

When a light came into view at the end of the corridor she knew she'd reached the part of the complex powered by the SGC’s own reactor. Turning off her light, she walked the remainder of the passageway easily, soon reaching the first of the pair of elevators to head downwards. Pushing the button on the side nearest to her, which immediately opened- it had been on Level 0 already- she tentatively stepped inside, testing if it took her weight. When it seemed stable, she pushed the button to Sub-Level 11, then quickly exited before the doors closed, allowing it to make the trip downwards without her, before calling it back up by hitting the call button again. When the elevator safely arrived back with barely a groan, she surmised that the elevator was in a sufficient state despite almost forty years of disuse. She didn’t really want to make the climb down several hundred feet by ladder again with a now very heavy backpack unless it was absolutely necessary. She entered the elevator again and rode it down, her heart hammering at the thought that if the cable snapped, she’d fall almost a hundred feet all the way down to 11. She’d ridden this elevator countless times in the last five years, but she couldn’t help feel the journey seemed to take at least twice as long as it usually did. She watched on anxiously as the numbers all-too steadily increased with each tick, urging the next number to appear. When the number 11 appeared and the doors finally opened she practically jumped out, took a moment, then repeated the entire process with the second elevator to reach the second section of the base. When the test-run of the second elevator again returned safely, she selected Level 25 on the keypad, and journeyed down again, similarly exiting upon her arrival with huge relief. 

She noticed that the air down here was much less stale and substantially warmer than it had been the previous day. The ventilation had had time to fully circulate the base, and she couldn't help feel the base was far more welcoming than she'd found it the last time she'd been here. Knowing she was alone she felt safe now, and not having to skulk and sweep each corridor anymore made a huge difference, too. 

She made a bee-line for her team locker room, eager to get changed into a fresh pair of clothes and underwear. She’d been wearing the same uniform for a day and half now, and felt the strong urge to freshen up.

Making her way to SG-1’s lockers, her heart gave a jolt as she saw not J O’Neill or her own initial on the locker doors, but instead A. Reynolds and J. Hailey respectively. Of course, she kicked herself, her name wouldn’t be here anymore, but she was surprised to see the Colonel’s name absent, too. So Reynolds had taken command of SG-1. That explained why the Colonel had been in his living room on a weekday morning, but what had made him leave? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought... could it possibly have been that he’d been unable to continue without her? Or had he been injured? She couldn't think it was a happy reason for leaving, though. The Colonel had loved his job. She looked next at Hailey's. She wondered vaguely how long after her disappearance she'd joined the team. She surely wouldn’t have been assigned to SG-1 immediately; someone with more experience would have been required on the flagship team. 

She chose to open Hailey’s locker as it was the only women’s locker in the entire room whose name she recognized, but looking at the clothes hanging inside, she couldn’t help recall the Colonel’s comment about her size in amusement. _“Four foot nine fighting machine,”_ he’d once called her. Her clothes wouldn’t even be close to fitting her. Recalling Reynolds as being considerably broader and taller than she was, she finally settled on selecting some clean BDUs from Daniel’s locker, relieved to see his name still where it belonged next to Teal’c’s. Daniel’s large-ish shirt and pants would have to do until she could find a better fitting pair in storage. 

She took the new set with her to the adjacent shower room, but not much to her surprise, she found that there was no running water. Deciding to remove her sweaty underwear anyway, she simply pulled on the slightly ill-fitting, but at least fresh-smelling, BDU pants on, rolling the waistband to fit better. She would have to forgo underwear for now until she could find a clean pair in storage. She stripped to her bra and replaced her black t-shirt with Daniel's baggy one, but couldn't help putting the Colonel's sweatshirt back on over the top. It was simply comforting to wear.

Feeling tired from the long day of travelling and the elk encounter, she decided to turn in early after heating up an MRE from her pack in the microwave provided in the communal recreation room down the hallway from the locker rooms. She was anxious to get started on her long mental to-do list, but there would be plenty of time tomorrow, and she knew she would work more efficiently if she was well-rested. Making use of the guest toothbrush and unopened bottle of water that had been sitting in the VIP quarters she’d chosen on 25, she set the photograph and yo-yo she'd acquired on the side table, took a last look at the Colonel's face, curled up in the warm bed covers, and soon fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn, I’ve just realised that I’ve omitted to consider that she’d need a keycard to open all the doors and sections she goes into, including the access elevator. Can we just assume that she found a relatively high-ranking card in someone’s clothes back in chapter 2 and it lets her in everywhere? Sorry for that oversight 🤦🏻♀️


	9. NORAD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had the day she arrives as Day 0 in chapter 1, but I’ve changed it to Day 1 as I found the count confusing. So this is Day 3.

**Day 3**

She woke up feeling unusually refreshed having slept on the base. It certainly helped to not have the gate alarm sounding, various announcements blaring, and the sound of boots marching past the door every hour, she mused to herself. Checking the time on her watch, it was just after six in the morning. She’d slept twelve hours!

Determined to have a full, productive day today, after freshening herself up at the sink with the remainder of the bottled water she’d found (not wanting to waste her collected fresh water on cleaning) and the block of soap provided, she opted to skip breakfast, eager to get started on her plans and to-dos. She headed straight up by elevator to Level 20, reaching the base’s main equipment storage, where she began to gather the necessary equipment to execute her plan.

Of course, normally she would have been able to easily find what she needed from her own lab, but it was extremely doubtful her lab would have been left in the same condition after she’d more than likely been declared MIA years ago. She vaguely wondered if Hailey had ended up taking over it, but that wasn’t a priority. There might be time to investigate later, but for now, focusing her attention at the task at hand, she heaved a small-sized but deceivingly heavy generator onto a trolley, before grabbing plenty of cables, clamps, wire cutters, adaptors, and several lamps.

Pushing the heavy, precariously-loaded trolley back along the corridor towards the elevator, she selected Level 11 and got in, nervously watching the sub-level numbers count upwards as the elevator swooped its even heavier load than yesterday upwards. Then, at 11, she switched elevators to head for the surface level, relieved that the heavy equipment posed no apparent problem. Reaching the surface, she switched on the lanterns she’d balanced on the trolley, and entered the dark tunnel towards the exit, this time turning off right into a separate side entrance to NORAD just beyond the unmanned checkpoint. She followed this second tunnel downwards to the second level, struggling to keep control of the trolley as the slant caused it to speed up. NORAD and the main entrance’s power system was completely segregated from Stargate Command’s systems below, leaving this far smaller section of the base still entirely in pitch darkness and without ventilation. The air steadily became mustier and heavier, she noticed, and felt cold and clammy with its higher humidity. Unlike the SGC’s own internal reactor, NORAD only had access to external power from the main grid. Getting NORAD fully back online would be more difficult, but if successful, she hoped to gain access to NORAD’s satellite and powerful radio communications. She’d never seen the power room for NORAD herself, but finding a layout guide in the lantern-provided light, it wasn’t long before she managed to find the breaker room. Holding one of the lanterns nearer for a better look, as expected, while everything looked to be in the on position, the panel was entirely dark and lifeless. She set to work straight away to pull away at the panels of the system, exposing the thick cables running down from the mountain surface. She took her time hooking up the generator, wanting to be sure she wasn’t about to electrocute herself or damage the generator by making a mistake. Just as she was done and happy with the jerry rig, she turned on the generator, and with a hum the overhead lights immediately flickered on, and NORAD sprang back to life.

Pleased everything was going so smoothly so far, she headed straight for the central communications room, the nerve centre of NORAD. Assuming she could get the computer system up and running, she would gain access to the global satellite tracking system, deep-space tracking, all commercial and military domestic aircraft flight information across the entire United States, and most importantly for her cause, a powerful communications system capable of broadcasting across the continent. The SGC, too, of course had its own emergency bunker equipped with communications on 16, but NORAD’s array would be better if it was still functional.

Turning on all the equipment, she found that a couple of computers wouldn’t turn on- perhaps they’d rusted internally from the higher humidity on the Level, she thought- but soon several machines started whirring, lights started blinking, and some displays began flickering on. Typing furiously at a keyboard, she was able to make light work of gaining access. NORAD’s security was a cinch compared to the SGC’s security.

As the system accepted her hacked login, she became immediately surrounded by a colourful array as the still-working monitors began displaying all kinds of information. A glance to the bottom left screen told her instantly that there was no flight information to be displayed. Either the data wasn’t being transmitted, or there were no aircraft flying. Radar, too, detected no aircraft in a vicinity of 128km, the extent of its range. This wasn’t too surprising, though, since she hadn’t seen a single aircraft in the sky during her drive yesterday. Also unsurprising was the status of the satellites that NORAD was still receiving signals from. She counted eighty-three satellites whose signal had been lost- presumably through loss of power or damage from almost four decades of solar radiation. Of the remaining six still transmitting a signal, only one had sufficient functionality to obey the command she sent to it to maneuver into a position to point its camera towards Earth. According to its coordinates and the map of its position she pulled up on a separate monitor, the satellite was in geosynchronous orbit above Alabama; specifically above the moderately-sized city of Birmingham. Directing the satellite to zoom in on its view of the city below, while the satellite couldn’t see with enough resolution to discern individual people or movement, it was immediately clear from the vast amount of greenery among the grey concrete that this city was in a similar state to Colorado Springs. In fact, if it weren’t for all the multi-laned highways snaking into the centre of the image, she might have been unable to identify that this was an image of a city at all.

Next, she decided to try the radio communications array, commanding the six remaining satellites to relay her signal across the country, before picking up the audio receiver.

“This is Major Samantha Carter at NORAD, Colorado, calling anyone. Can anyone hear me?” she spoke into the microphone.

She waited a few moments before repeating her message, but there was no response but static. Checking her watch, it was still barely nine o’clock in the morning Mountain time. She might have better luck in a few hours when people- if there were any- were more likely to be near a radio to receive and reply to the message. Enabling the system to transfer control down to the SGC’s emergency bunker downstairs so she wouldn’t have to return all the way to NORAD each time she wanted to try to radio the whole country, after one more failed try, she decided to give up for now, heading back out of NORAD, leaving behind the trolley of equipment she’d brought. The SGC’s storage level had more than enough equipment anyway.

She walked her way briskly back through the now-lit entrance tunnel, retracing her steps back down to the SGC. Her next priority was to access the base’s mission reports and security footage. Getting the base’s main server back online on Level 23 had been a more than simple task- the machine had been perfectly preserved- and afterwards she headed up to the Secondary Command Bunker on Level 16, accepting the transfer of access from NORAD, giving her full entry into NORAD from there. When her radio calls were once again unanswered, she made her way to the Security Monitoring Centre on the same level.

Booting up the computers and screens here, she accessed the archive of security footage. She knew that only the last twelve months’ worth of footage was kept before it was wiped, but miraculously she found that she had access to video feeds between May 2004 and May 2005; the back-up generator must have shut itself off then, possibly a safety protocol kicking in from an unexpected anomaly in the reactor. Immediately selecting that ominous date, March 4th 2005, she chose the Gate Room feed and set it to play on fast forward. The feed began at midnight, quickly speeding through the early morning hours. Every now and then she’d slow the feed, but the room was silent and empty. Speeding it up again and seeing the time stamp reach the morning, her heart started racing in time with the speed of the feed. She was suddenly terrified of what she might be about to see. She almost didn’t want to see confirmation that her friends had all died, even if all the evidence so far did point to that conclusion. But _how_ had they died. She needed to know, even if she didn’t want to watch. Was she about to see a barrage of aliens come bursting through the gate? A firefight and bloodshed as her coworkers bravely tried to hold the base safe? Yet, she recalled, she hadn’t seen evidence of a firefight in the gate room.

Her heart gave a jolt at the sight of the gate chevrons lighting up, and she immediately slowed the playback speed in time to catch the kawoosh form, holding her breath, waiting to see who, or perhaps, _what_ would come through. Looking at the time stamp she saw that it was almost precisely 9 o’clock in the morning.

From the angle of the camera’s feed that she'd chosen, she saw as a single Jaffa stepped through confidently, dressed in a chain vest and Jaffa skirt. Despite the dark head of hair, there was no mistaking Teal’c’s bulky arms, posture and stance. She watched as he marched down the ramp, greeted by a woman who’d now come in view, to whom he bowed. She looked civilian, dressed in a cardigan and pants, and while Sam couldn’t see her face from this angle, Teal’c greeted her with respect but also had a grave expression on his face as his mouth moved in speech. Sam wondered if this person might be the current leader of the base. Whoever she was, knowing Teal’c as well as she did, she was now the recipient of bad news.

She selected another camera angle to follow the pair as they hurried to the Control Room, displaying this feed on a separate monitor, making them play simultaneously. Her heart leapt to see that Daniel had come rushing to join them in the room, soon followed by Hailey and Reynolds. She was surprised to see how different Hailey now looked; her hair looked less trim, her expression less haughty. She looked wisened with experience and age, maybe even relaxed into her role as perhaps scientific advisor in her own absence, and she watched on as she contributed confidently to the heated discussion that was taking place between the five-piece.

The civilian woman then gave an instruction to Sergeant Harriman, who began dialling the gate, and she made a mental note to check the log later to see where they’d dialled out to. She was surprised to see their expressions turn to shock, however, at the establishment of the wormhole. Daniel’s face was in full front view of the camera, and she certainly knew well his expression of panic. She wondered what could be wrong, until she saw the iris close in time with the second feed showing Harriman place his hand against the palm-scanner. They must have received an incoming wormhole before they’d finished dialling out, she surmised. She watched as four Airmen rushed into the Gate Room, one of them a woman, weapons readied. Clearly these Airmen were the owners of the same four bundles she’d first found in the Gate Room upon her arrival.

 _’This is it’_ , she thought, with a pit of dread and helplessness in her stomach. They hadn’t dialled out in time. The attack was coming. She watched on as the woman and Reynolds simultaneously began typing furiously at the keyboard, guessing they were setting the self-destruct, but not a second later, a bright, white bubble of light suddenly emerged from the gate, completely unimpeded by the iris. It enlarged and spread outwards steadily, and Sam was floored to see that as the surface of the light bubble connected with the Airmen, they instantly disappeared, their clothes falling clumsily into heaps on the floor. A split-second later, the light reached the Control Room, and to her great distress, she watched on helplessly as Daniel, Teal’c and everyone else, were gone in an instant.


	10. Records

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first paragraph I've put that the iris opens back up automatically after the gate shuts down. AFAIK this is not true to the tv series, but if it hadn't reopened, Sam would have splatted on the iris and this would have been a very short story. So please accept this tweak *puppy dog eyes*
> 
> Edit 2: I also wrote the wrong MIA and retirement dates as December. It should be September *more puppy eyes*

_A split-second later, the light reached the Control Room, and to her great distress, she watched on helplessly as Daniel, Teal’c and everyone else, were gone in an instant.  
_

She stared on at the playback, paralyzed and numbed by what she’d seen, waiting with dread to finally see the identity of the attackers who would come through the gate. But, after one minute, the gate disengaged, the iris opening back up automatically, and there was no more movement. She pulled up the security feed for the always busy commissary, and it was evident that the attack had already reached here. here was no question that this field of light, or whatever it was, had engulfed the entire base, Colorado Springs, the entire state and quite possibly even the entirety of Earth in one swift assault. 

When nothing happened for a further minute, she reached out a shaking hand to play the video in fast-motion, but despite the fast playback, nothing more happened. If they had tried to set the base self-destruct, they mustn’t have had time to input their codes. When the end of the day came, and the gate had remained still, the fallen clothes unmoving, she pulled up the next file and watched the following day’s security feed at 64x speed,. But again, there was no movement whatsoever from the gate, or elsewhere. Deciding it would be quicker to simply pull up the incoming gate log, she saw that in almost two months’ of recordings before he base’s back-up generator had gone offline, there were precisely zero incoming wormholes recorded. She couldn’t believe this. Surely the Tok’ra would have checked in on them? Or the Alpha Site, which would have been up-and-running then. It had been due to start operation in just a few short weeks from her time. Surely they would have dialled in for their planned daily check-in? How could absolutely nobody have made contact with Earth in two months? Unless… had they known about the attack and thought it pointless, knowing the Earth would be barren of life? But then, why had whoever’d unleashed the attack never come to claim the planet? Unless they’d come in ships, perhaps? Unfortunately, with the NORAD satellites mostly inoperable, she had no way of seeing if there was any damage from an attack from space in any of the larger cities.

Cracking open a can of diet soda from the pack she’d brought, she took a gulp, needing some sugar in her system to augment her shock and to give her hands something to do while her brain frantically processed what she’d seen. After a few more calming sips and breaths, recovering slightly, she decided to look up the leader of the base. She was a civilian named Elizabeth Weir with a background in UN negotiations, and her profile picture indeed matched the woman whom she’d seen on the security feed. She’d replaced General Hammond a year before the attack, who, she searched on, had been reassigned to Washington to command a new organization in the Pentagon called “Homeworld Command.” She had to admit that she was hugely surprised to learn that a civilian negotiator had been put in charge to run the SGC rather than another Air Force General, but perhaps the Galaxy’s circumstances had changed significantly and merited a change in tactics and leadership. Teal’c had clearly thought respectfully of her. She must have been a good leader to earn that respect, she thought.

Next, she decided to check the outgoing wormhole logs, curious to see where the Sergeant had unsuccessfully dialed to. It had been a planet designated P4X-650. If memory served correctly, this had been on the list of planets that SG-1, as well as SG-3 and SG-18 were to scout over the coming months as potential Beta sites if the Alpha Site they’d almost finished setting up on P3X-984 ever became compromised. 

A scan through the logs pertaining to the original Alpha Site as she’d known it showed that it had indeed been completed on schedule, becoming operational three weeks from the time of her disappearance. It had run for just over a year when it had been shut down, becoming compromised by an Ash’rak. The then-designated Beta Site had been used for just under a year until a civilian named Jonas Quinn had been deemed likely to have leaked the information to someone named Anubis in 2002. She furrowed her brows at the two names unknown to her: ‘Jonas Quinn’ and ‘Anubis’, though she couldn’t help but feel a slight something stir within her at the sight of the second name.

Running a keyword search on mission files containing the name Anubis, the most recent file happened an SG-1 mission report, and looking at the date, it may well have been the team’s very last report. 

It read:

_2005 March 2nd_  
_SG-1 Mission Report_  
_Members:_  
_Colonel Albert Reynolds (leader)_  
_Captain Jennifer Hailey_  
_Doctor Daniel Jackson_  
_Teal’c_

As she’d seen evidence of last night, and on the video feed just now, here it was confirmed that the SG-1 team members had had a big change. She raised her eyebrow at seeing proof of Reynold’s leadership of the team, despite seeing his name besides Daniel’s locker last night. Sure, the guy was probably likeable enough, and had leadership experience- she’d known him as leader of SG-16- but she’d always held a little resentment towards him after the incident on Orlin’s planet. Of course he’d only been following orders, but he had been the one to shoot Orlin, forcing him to re-ascend, losing them of that contact with a living Ancient. She hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of what she could have learned from him, or what he could have offered the program, and they’d lost out on that because of Reynold’s decision. 

She vaguely wondered what had happened to the Colonel. _Her_ Colonel, if she could call him that, she added in after-thought. He’d been at home at the time of the attack, and he was no longer on SG-1. What might have happened to make him leave the team? 

And Hailey? So she’d already reached the rank of Captain. At least from her perspective, it hadn’t been at all long since she’d first met the headstrong Cadet, hand-selecting her and getting her into the Stargate Training Program after she’d graduated. It was funny to see now that she’d unwittingly chosen her successor that day at the Academy.

Reading the contents of the report, which had been written by Colonel Reynolds, she learned that the team had gated to meet with someone named M’Zel who had intel regarding someone named Ba’al and- there was that name- Anubis. She gave a sigh. In just over three years, she’d become so out of the loop that she couldn’t even read an SG-1 report without following it. She felt like an outsider, or like a ghost that had come back to haunt the base. Almost like she shouldn’t be privy to reading these confidential files. Reading on nevertheless, she was surprised to see the term ‘Rebel Jaffa’ used, making it sound as though Bra’tac and Teal’c’s resistance as she knew it had made progress and had become a real organization by this time. Perhaps in her absence Bra’tac and Teal’c had managed to turn more and more Jaffa against their Goa’uld, to the point that they’d formed some kind of coalition? She thought that if such an organization did exist, they might be allies of Earth, and might be able to help her. She then pondered whether Bra’tac would even be alive by now after almost forty years.

The names Ba’al and Anubis cropped up again and again further down the report. SG-1 had learned that some members of this Rebel Jaffa group had infiltrated a Ha’tak belonging to Ba’al. He must be a Goa’uld, she surmised. They’d been informed that his fleet was heading to a planet named Dakara in Anubis’ name. Unfortunately, there was no further information in the report as to the significance of this planet, so closing the report, she instead searched the keyword Dakara. If this was SG-1’s last mission report, it might have some significant. However, there was little more than an entry of its gate address, as well as a short memo that it had been the place of implantation of the first the Jaffa. That seemed to be a dead end.

A search for Ba’al instead brought up several mission reports, but it was the oldest one, dated not too long after her own disappearance, that caught her eye. Her heart gave a leap as she saw her father’s name had been added to the report, and, double clicking the report to open it, she felt like she’d hit the jackpot on catching up to speed with the status of the galaxy: Daniel had infiltrated a System Lord summit together with her father. It had been a bold mission- Daniel had used a chemical compound to portray Lord Yu’s Lo’tar and had been able to listen in on the System Lord’s meeting. Ba’al’s name was among the attendees, as well as, to her surprise, Osiris. Wow, she couldn’t imagine how Daniel must have reacted to seeing his old girlfriend there, she thought. Sarah, or rather Osiris, had of course recognized him, and he’d failed to kidnap her, but not before learning that Anubis, apparently an old, long-absent Goa’uld, had returned, and had been voted back into the position of System Lord. So Anubis was a new kid on the block, except he was also an older Goa’uld. Interesting, she thought. 

Deciding to take a break from reading mission reports for now- there’d be plenty of time for that, and it would take days, if not _weeks_ to get through them all- she took another swig of soda, and gave into her curiosity to pull up various personnel files. 

_Major Samantha Carter_  
_Status: Missing in Action, presumed dead (dated: September 2nd 2002)_

Well, that wasn’t surprising. It was protocol to pronounce missing field officers as officially MIA after six months. 

Her heart began thumping as curiosity spurned her to next search for Colonel O’Neill’s file. She took a moment to stare at his younger, handsome profile picture, before scanning her eyes to the text below the photo.

_Status: Retired (dated: September 8th 2002)_

She did a double-take at the date. He’d not only left SG-1 shortly after she’d been declared MIA, but he’d retired altogether. It pained her to think of the grief he must have felt for her. 

_“I’d have rather died myself than lose Carter.”_

She thought back to the words he’d been forced to say just over a year ago. She’d had no doubt of the truth of his words at the time, and sure enough, he clearly must have been unable to face working at the SGC after losing her. It broke her heart to think back to the couch where she’d found his last resting place. He’d been sat there, early in the morning, drinking beer, most likely watching tv, completely unaware of the imminent doom that the world was facing. He’d left the program because of her. Maybe if she hadn’t gone missing, he would still have been on the team, and maybe then he would have been able to make a difference. What if his being on SG-1 could have prevented this from happening? Maybe if she’d still been there, too, there could have been something they could have thought of together to prevent this disaster. It was just so unfair that a complete and utter _fluke_ of physics had stolen her out of her time, away from her friends and colleagues and from her place on her team… and now everyone was dead. What was even more unfair, she thought, was that she hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to everyone, or for any closure. And they hadn’t either, she thought. From their perspective, she had simply vanished without a trace, and they would have had to simply bury an empty coffin in her name. It just seemed such a cruel fate.

Rubbing her eyes from staring at a screen so long, and feeling weary from all the revelations of the day and pain of seeing her friends die before her eyes, she decided she needed a break. It was lunch time by now, after all. Following another failed check to contact anyone using the NORAD communications at the bunker, she returned to 25, helped herself to an MRE- her first food of the day- then retired to the guest quarters. She couldn’t help curling up in bed, looking at her photo of Cassie, Daniel, Teal’c and the Colonel, wondering how they'd mourned her, and how she would go about mourning and living without them, feeling completely unmotivated and utterly sorry for herself. Burying her head under the covers and allowing herself to shed a few tears, she couldn’t recall a point in her life when she’d felt so alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this story was slow burning?


	11. Alpha Site

_Burying her head under the covers and allowing herself to shed a few tears, she couldn’t recall a point in her life when she’d felt so alone._

Sometime later that afternoon, Sam emerged from her room, steeling herself to keep going. She hadn’t been able to shut down her mind, but there was no point hiding in bed forever chasing a sleep that would not come. The fact remained that she was more than likely all alone on Earth, and that she would have to help herself. But, she reminded herself, being alone on Earth didn’t mean that she was alone in the galaxy. There was the Alpha Site. There was a tiny chance that the settlement there was still going, even after all this time. And of course there were still allies off-world. She wasn’t sure if Bra’tac or her father would still be alive, but she had the means to find out. The Asgard, surely, would be alive and well in their galaxy, too, if she could contact them. Maybe they’d know what had happened to Earth, and may even be able to help somehow. There may be other technologically-advanced allies that the SG teams had met after her disappearance who would be willing to help her. Worst case scenario, she could simply live the rest of her life off-world on one of the countless friendly human populations she’d already met over the years. She knew for a fact that at the very least, the Argosians, Madronans and the people of the Land of Light would be more than happy to have her come live with them.

She made her decision. She couldn’t stay on Earth anymore. At the very least, there wasn’t any running water, and she was desperate to get clean. Not to mention the sight of piles of clothes of dead coworkers at every turn was creepy and becoming quite frankly depressing. No, for her mental health, she felt she needed to be somewhere else, and the Alpha Site would serve as a safe place for now. It was a planet safely off the list of gates known to the Goa’uld, furnished with a living space to Earth-standards and computers she’d be able to access, and was still hopefully stocked with plenty of supplies and tech to serve all her needs. Fingers crossed, too, there’d also be people still there who could finally tell her what the hell had happened to Earth.

Reinvigorated by her plan of action, she spent the rest of the evening gathering as many supplies as could fit into the FRED she’d gotten out of storage.

 **Day 4**

The next morning, ready-dressed in her combats and vest, she remote-controlled the fully-loaded FRED into the gate room. She looked at the overflowing pile on its back. Unsure of the current status of supplies on the Alpha Site, she’d ended up packing three months worth of non-perishables (which really did seem to last forever), heaps of cans and bottles of drinks, as many medical supplies as she could gather, several pairs of clean BDUs and women’s underwear, a ton of weapons, ammunition and claymores, the laptop she’d assumed had been Hammond’s but had transpired to be Doctor Weir’s, as well as a working spare she’d found, four naquadah generators, and most importantly, a 1 TB hard drive containing a copy of every single team mission report from 1997-2005. 

Getting a MALP readied and brought down to the gate room had been easy enough as she’d seen Siler do it countless times. Next, taking a deep breath, she headed to the Control Room, preparing herself for sight of clothes she knew she was about to find on the floor. 

Her eye was immediately drawn to the mangled and cracked pair of round-rimmed glasses. Vaguely recalling the crunch she’d felt beneath her feet, she realised in horror that she must have stepped on them when she’d rushed through in the darkness when she’d first arrived. She crouched down to pick them up, glass from one of the lenses sprinkling down onto what must have been Daniel’s green BDUs below.

“I’m so sorry I stepped on your glasses, Daniel,” she said glumly to the BDUs. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when this happened, either.”

She pocketed the pair in her TAC vest, then decided to inspect Teal’c’s Jaffa wear. She was surprised to find a vial and syringe inside his vest pocket. They must have been important, so she decided to keep them, too, placing them alongside Daniel’s glasses in her vest. She was surprised, too, to find that the golden tattoo from his forehead was intact, perfectly preserved into three separate pieces of gold, nestled atop his Jaffa skirt. It was as though the weapon had only attacked the biological. Except, remembering the deer, elk and wolves, as well as the birds she’d seen in the sky, that couldn’t be true. The weapon had only targeted humans. Goa’uld, perhaps, too, she concluded, when she found no sign remains of Junior. Though there was a possibility that it had slithered away and died elsewhere on the level, she thought. She decided to pocket the tiny pieces of golden tattoo as a token of her friend. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here by your side either, Teal’c. I hope you died free.” 

Just as she’d done with the Colonel’s clothes, she decided to carefully fold up Daniel’s and Teal’c’s clothes neatly, placing them side-by-side on the empty space beside the computer monitors with a view of the gate. They’d have her back as she stepped through.

Turning to the computers, she rolled away the wheeled chair with what must have been Sergeant Harrimans’ clothes draped across them, and pulled up an unoccupied chair to use instead. Connecting the MALP she’d set up with the computer, she brought the camera, sensors and remote control online, commanding it to trundle to the bottom of the ramp before instructing the computer to dial the current Alpha Site, P4X-650.

Once the wormhole had been established, she tried to radio through, but there was no answer. She had been prepared for this eventuality, however. After almost forty years, the group was likely to have moved on to another planet. Hopefully they’d left clues as to where they’d gone. Instructing the MALP to approach the gate, she watched as it slowly rolled up the ramp before becoming consumed by the event horizon with a _slurp_ , drumming her fingers on the keyboard waiting the few seconds it would take for the camera and sensor readings to come back on-screen as the MALP rematerialized on the other side. What she would see would make or break whether all her preparation had been worth it. A few tense seconds later, the visual feed returned, and to her huge relief, the Alpha Site’s Gate Room appeared undamaged and intact. It had a safe atmosphere, there were no visible hostiles, and good news was that she could see into the Control Room, similarly constructed just beyond the gate. The power was on. She had a go.

“Keep an eye on things here for me, guys,” she said, patting Daniel and Teal’c’s clothes gently, before making her way down the metal staircase and through to the Gate Room. She picked up the FRED’s remote control and directed the FRED forwards, following its slow trundle slowly up the ramp. 

“God’s speed,” she said to herself, using the General’s usual send-off, and followed the FRED through the event horizon to the Alpha Site.


	12. History

_“God’s speed,” she said to herself, using the General’s usual send-off, and followed the FRED through to the Alpha Site._

As the shimmering light of the event horizon behind her extinguished as the gate shut down, she noticed an LED ceiling strip above her head, flickering. The power was certainly on, but there were signs that the base had been long disused. It was also eerily silent, just like the SGC she had just left. Her heart then sank to again find the same piles of untouched BDUs on the floor of the Control Room. The Alpha Site’s gate address was supposed to be secure, yet there was no mistaking that they had been attacked using the same weapon that had taken away the people of Earth. If the Alpha Site’s location was known to have become compromised, it was supposed to be abandoned immediately, but there were no signs that she could see that they had attempted an evac here. Perhaps the Alpha Site hadn’t known at all what was to come before the entire base had been similarly wiped of life. From the impression she’d gotten of the security feed of the SGC, it looked as though Teal’c had only brought forewarning of about two minutes prior to the attack, and they’d been unable to prevent it. 

It then occurred to her, with a jolt of dread, that unless there had been any SG teams off-world at the time of Earth’s attack, then there were likely no other Earth personnel alive in the galaxy. If there had been any surviving SG teams, they would have surely gated in to Earth, but the gate log after the attack had been empty. She was all alone. Except for her father, perhaps, but would he even be alive after forty years? The Tok’ra would have undoubtedly moved their base in that time, too. How would she even go about finding them?

She decided to make a full sweep of the base. As had been described in the files she’d pre-read back home, this Alpha Site had been constructed into a mountain, and consisted of five levels. It had its own power supply generated by a combination of solar and geothermal, which had successfully run continuously the entire time without issue, and she also found a back-up Naquadah generator plugged into the grid: offline, but in seeming perfect working order. There was a mess, living quarters, a small infirmary, some research labs, and many storage rooms. She discovered that supplies were plentiful: food, ammunition, and equipment was well-stocked, and best of all, the base had running water. Satisfied that she would be safe here, for now, this Alpha Site would be her haven. The outer concrete blast door had been sealed, too, and the base had been perfectly preserved from the outside elements or infestation by local wildlife or vegetation. Perhaps due to its smaller size, it somehow felt safer to her and more defensible than the SGC. The construction and layout was familiar and comforting to her, too, even if she had never set foot on the base before. Flushing toilets and being able to take a shower would be a big plus, too, not to mention there would be the benefit of being able to go outside without having to take two rather precarious elevators. She felt incredibly grateful to the SGC program for succeeding in building such a sturdy refuge in the three years she’d been missing, providing her now with more than enough supplies and safety now. 

It had been easy enough to hack into the familiar computer systems. Deciding to opt for the same strategy as she had done the previous day at the SGC, she first decided to check the security camera feed. Unfortunately, this time, it seemed that the surveillance system had been operational the entire time. The video feed of the attack had long been overwritten and erased. Next, she opted to check the gate dial-in logs, which fortunately stretched back all the way back to when the base had first become operational. To her astonishment, the last dial-in had been at 09:04 March 4th, 2005. Not only was it the same date, or hour even, as the attack on Earth, but the dial-in had occurred at the _precise_ same second as Earth’s. How was that even possible? As far as she knew, there was no way for a Stargate to dial more than one address at the same time. She had always theorized that there were safety protocols in-built into the gate to prevent multiple dialings of a gate. If a person were to step through, they would be cloned. The gate-builders would never have allowed that. And yet, here was evidence to the contrary...

Deciding to utilize the perk of running water before doing any more reading, she made use of the working laundry room, washing the Colonel’s sweatshirt along with her mission clothes, took a hot shower and changed into a fresh pair of BDUs and donning some clean female standard undergarments. She was also able to boil up a coffee pot to make very stale, but sufficiently coffee-like coffee to stave off the craving she’d had for the past few days. Feeling freshened up and energized with the hit of coffee in her, she was feeling more positive and ready to delve through the old mission reports. She had a lot of catching up to do to get back up to speed with the three years she’d missed.

She decided that her priority would be reading the flagship team, SG-1’s, mission reports in chronological order. She soon learned that following Daniel and her father’s mission report, SG-1, now a three-piece team without her, had spent the next three months off mission rota searching planets for her, trying to figure out what had caused her disappearance, or otherwise get the word out to their allies of her disappearance. She could imagine the Colonel must have pleaded hard to have SG-1 taken off the mission rota for so long; it had been a tough battle for her when the Colonel had been lost on Edora. Once the Tollan had said they would be able to rescue the Colonel, albeit a very long time from then, the General had come under a lot of pressure from the Pentagon to put SG-1 back on the rota, and she had had to push back very hard to be permitted to continue to working in her lab on developing her particle beam generator and rescue the Colonel sooner. She wondered if that three months then had set a precedent, the time limit an SG team had until they had to give up on searching for missing personnel. It was distressing to read that the reports written by the Colonel as that allotted time had dwindled, his reports becoming steadily shorter, more negative, and more dejected-sounding in what she could only surmise was his slow loss of hope of ever finding her again. She could completely understand. She’d had to go through a similar hopelessness too. The fact was, that despite how hard she’d worked on the particle beam generator, a large part of her had been terrified the entire time that he would already be dead by the time she got there.

Deciding to skip ahead to SG-1’s first scheduled mission, she saw that they had gained a fourth member, Major Michael Griff, whom she’d known to have recently become leader of SG-2 before her disappearance. He and the Colonel had always gotten on well, and Griff was a good marksman and soldier. She guessed the Colonel might have chosen him to lift up his own spirits, but she also wondered whether he’d felt that putting Griff on the team- someone who was quite dissimilar in temperament and abilities to herself- meant that he didn’t feel he’d replaced her or given up on her coming back. She read on to learn that the team had travelled to provide aid to the Rebel Jaffa who had indeed, she read, become a somewhat organized group. Teal’c, however, had discovered that a Goa’uld had infiltrated the group, and had swiftly killed him. She could just imagine the satisfaction that must have given him, she smiled. Next, she was very surprised to learn that the creator of the Replicators had been discovered. It turned out that she was a child-like android, who had been found dormant on a planet housing a technologically-advanced but extinct civilization. The Colonel had been forced to destroy her, however, before sending the remains to the Asgard for study. Next, the team had discovered a part-machine, part-biological weapon on a planet that had been damaged by Maybourne’s old NID croons. She would have loved to have been able to study the machine. Then, after visiting a planet named Langara, Daniel had- she had to re-read the same paragraphs several times to absorb their contents- Daniel had _died_. From radiation poisoning. She couldn’t believe it. But, yet, she’d seen him on the video feed back on Earth in 2005. Something else must have happened. Forcing herself to read on to the end, it turned out that, according to the Colonel’s report, the ascended being they’d met on Kheb, Oma Desala, had helped him ascend, and that he had become a glowing being just like herself and like Orlin. As she re-read the report for the fourth time now, still hardly believing her eyes, she tried to draw the emotions he must have been feeling from between the lines, but the Colonel had written the report unusually objectively. Yet, the fact that his report hadn’t been laden with any sarcasm or jokes had been enough to assure her that losing Daniel must have been painful. It had, after all, only been four months since her own disappearance. At least she was assured that Daniel did somehow later come back. Maybe like Orlin, he’d chosen to retake mortal form, and that was reassuring enough to quell her shock and keep her reading on.

The following mission reports now bore the name Jonas Quinn under the team members list. Looking him up, apparently he was from the planet where Daniel had received the fatal dose of radiation from the heavier form of Naquadah native to the planet, Naquadriah. As he was non-military, she wondered if the Colonel was trying to break him in gently on the team, as the next two months of missions were fairly standard, easy recon missions, some of which were to previously-visited planets by other exploration team units. Not much seemed to happen until SG-1 travelled to Jonas’ homeworld, where they successfully sourced some of this Naquadriah, and she was surprised to see that it was not Colonel O’Neill’s name listed as mission leader anymore, but Colonel Reynolds’. The Colonel must have retired, and sure enough, this mission had been dated September 2002, six months from her time of disappearance. The Colonel had lost two of his team members in such a short time. It was no wonder he'd retired. He wouldn't have known that Daniel would return, and that she, too, would, albeit forty years later... But she couldn't help feeling a tremendous sense of guilt for the grieving she'd put him, and her friends, through.

Sighing, she pushed on to continue reading. She learned that an Ash’rak had attacked the Alpha Site where some members of the Rebel Jaffa had been living, and SG-1, along with Lt. Hailey's help, she read, had successfully found and neutralized the cloaked Ash’rak. Then not long afterwards, she was shocked to learn that the Rebel Jaffa had been dealt a further blow. Hundreds of Jaffa, along with Teal’c and Bra’tac had both lost their symbiotes to another slaughtering attack. Fortunately Teal’c’s life had been saved by something called Tretonin, but whatever it was wasn’t effective in all subjects, and, despite being found alive, it sadly hadn’t taken in Bra’tac, who, her heart broke to read, had died. 

She sat back in the chair, her mind reeling from the shock. Teal'c had lost his symbiote. And this Tretonin sounded like a drug, that must be what the syringe she’d found in his vest was, she thought, recalling the vial she'd decided to keep. Deciding to do a keyword search in the Alpha Site records, she learned that Tretonin was a drug that could replace an immune system, discovered on a planet by SG-10, that had been made of a Goa’uld Queen’s harvested symbiotes. And not just any Queen, but it had been Egeria, the Queen of the Tok’ra resistance. She was initially so excited to read that she had been found alive- more Tok’ra could finally be born, she thought happily- until it turned out that the Queen had died later that day of old age and injury. She wondered how her father must have taken the news. Suddenly curious as to what had happened to the Tok’ra, she searched and found a log dated nine months after Egeria’s discovery. The Tok’ra base had been discovered and destroyed by Anubis using a technology called the ‘Eyes of the Goa’uld’. Her father’s last known location had been on the base. He had been killed, along with ninety-percent of the Tok’ra population in one fell swoop.

She stared at the screen. There had been even more death. This time, her father, along with almost the entire Tok'ra resistance. She didn't have any chance of finding them now, and with the loss of her father, that officially made her the last Earth human alive. She felt numb. She couldn’t face reading anymore and risk coming across any more death or destruction. Checking the time, she was surprised to see that she’d spent almost five hours reading. Remembering she'd still left the laundry in the machine, she left the computer to go sort the washing, pick out her quarters and get settled in.

**Day 5**

Following a restless sleep, and feeling burned out from reading, she decided to spend today outside exploring. She wandered the mountain vicinity and went for a long walk for some fresh air to try to brush away the feelings of loneliness and gloom from being holed up under artificial lighting underground for so long, as well as the cloud of guilt that was weighing on her shoulders. She hadn’t been there for Daniel’s death. For her father’s. For Janet’s. She hadn’t been there to even potentially stop these things from happening. She felt helpless and guilty for missing out on so much, and it was difficult to face reading more about things passively when there was nothing she could actively do to prevent them. History had already been written. Everyone was already dead.

Making her way all the way up to the rocky peak of the mountain the base had been bored into, the sunshine on her skin and endorphins from the climb soon cleared her mind of some of the negativity she’d been feeling. From the top, she could see the tiny-looking airstrip of the base below, fitted with what she was pleased to see where some completed X-302s- she'd been working on that project at the time of her disappearance. In the distance to one side were tree-covered mountains, and on the other side stretched out a beautiful valley, carpeted with fauna and with a serene river flowing through its centre. It was practically picture-perfect. Following a grassy bank downwards to the other side of the mountain, she discovered a gentle-flowing stream offshoot from the river at the bottom, dotted with some red crab-like creatures. Across the bank, she could see trees with unripe but potentially edible fruit growing on them. She’d already studied the data gathered on the planet’s climate since the Alpha site had been in operation, and longer beforehand during its construction. It had shown that a year on the planet lasted a little over two hundred days, giving brisk winters and short summers, with the rest of the year having a climate not too dissimilar to Colorado’s. Light snow in winter months and pleasant, but not-too-hot summer months. The immediate area had grass, plants, and, upon inspection, fertile-looking soil. She could probably fish, hunt, gather fruit, even grow a garden here in the fertile soil... Long-term survival here was certainly possible. But what would be the point of long-term survival alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first glance this might seem like a bit of a boring chapter, but it's an important one: you may have noticed that the timeline was significantly altered due to Sam and Jack's absence. I wonder if Sam can put any of this knowledge to use when she gets back...?  
> There will be another similar chapter at a later time when Sam gets to reading the second half of what she's missed. It was just too heavy to put it all into a single chapter, so I'm trying to break it all up into readable (and writable) chunks.
> 
> Thank you for reading so far! We've broken 20k and as a heads up, this story so far is at 40k and still going *nose drips*


	13. Recon I

_Long-term survival here was certainly possible. But what would be the point of long-term survival alone?_

**Day 8**

While it had only been eight days since she’d been sent to the future, it already felt like weeks to her. She’d spent the previous two days getting settled in; combining the supplies and rations she’d brought with her on the FRED and adding them to the huge stock she’d found on the base. She now had such a huge inventory of food that she couldn’t even estimate how long it could last her, but it was in the region of _years_. After all, the Alpha Site was always stocked with enough supplies to support a group of fifty strong for three months at any given time. She also had a plethora of medical supplies, which she sorted through, discarding anything that would have become dangerous so far past its expiry, and setting out anything she might need in an emergency in an easy to grab place. She also spent some time tidying up all the clothes on the floors of the rooms she most used, which had turned out to be a depressing task.

With the task of making the base tidy and livable, she found she still couldn’t face reading any more mission reports for now. What she needed was a mission of her own, and that, she decided, was to seek out off-world allies. Painfully aware that she would be travelling alone with no back-up, her best bet was to visit known safe planets that were unlikely to have fallen into Goa’uld hands, that SG-1 had been on friendly terms with, and where the people lived close to the gate. It would be highly unlikely that they would know anything of the attack on the Tau’ri, but at least she would have friendly company. Even after forty years, the villagers of such planets would surely have continued to pass on stories of the travellers that had come through the gate to the next generation, and she would surely be welcomed. After over a week of nothing but MREs, too, she was most looking forward to being served up a far superior home cooked meal, as well as catching up with the people she’d known and hearing them sing songs and tell tales of the past forty years. She couldn’t wait!

There were a few planets to choose from, but she first decided on Madrona. Due to their use of the Touchstone, its weather could be relied upon to be pleasant, warm and welcoming, and she had fond memories of the last time she had visited to check up on them a couple of years ago. They had thrown SG-1 a lavish party that had lasted two days served with bountiful tasty tropical fruits and salads and succulent, roasted game meat. And while their leader, Roham, likely wouldn’t be alive anymore, his niece, who had been young at the time, would have assumed power by now, and would surely remember her and welcome her. She wondered how to explain her own lack of ageing, but the Madronans were a simple people, and would probably buy a simple explanation of being given a gift of youth from the gods, or something. She guessed she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Geared up and ready by 9am sharp in the Gate Room- old habits die hard, she thought with a grin to herself- she excitedly dialled up Madrona and briskly sent the MALP through. Her heart plummeted, however, to see that the telemetry came back showing a vicious snowstorm. Visibility was so poor that she couldn’t even make out any structures of the nearby village. The air temperature reading was a mere 16F. Something must have happened to the Touchstone, she thought. She would love to go through and see if there was anything she could do to help the Madronans, but unfortunately, if it had happened years ago, then the Madronans would have died of hypothermia long ago. With a heavy heart, she declared the MALP lost, and shut down the gate. She couldn’t help hugely disappointed, and hoped the Madronans had been able to escape to another planet. She decided to check the record to see if anything known had happened, but there was nothing. SG-13 had been their last visitors, doing the annual check-up and catch-up with their off-world friendlies, and that had been three months before Earth had been attacked. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary then. What could have happened since then?

She’d have to leave it a mystery and press on. Next on her list was Argos. Another planet with a reliable, balmy climate, thanks to the Goa’uld Phelops’ meddling. Their beachside village was close to the gate, and like the Madronans, they certainly knew how to party, too. Though she’d make sure to stay clear of any cake offered, she thought bemused, and smiled at a memory of Daniel’s frequent teasing of the Colonel about the incident. She wondered how Dan’el, the baby she’d witnessed being born, would look now, a middle-aged man. Now that the Argosians had returned to aging at a normal rate, she was excited at the prospect of seeing how far their civilization might have come in some forty years’ of living a normal lifespan. Over time, their limited settlement along the beach wouldt have needed to expand. They might have built schools for the children’s long-term learning, perhaps permanent civil buildings. Maybe if she ended up living with them- and she recalled the Colonel fondly saying on occasion that he’d like to retire on Argos- she could help their development. Help them set up a legal structure, educational curriculum, advance their civilization if required. It wouldn’t be ideal, but worst-case scenario, she could probably make a life for herself there.

She decided this time to check first that nothing known had befallen the Argosians in the Base’s and mission logs. It looked as though last contact had been mid-2004 when SG-8 had provided some medical assistance for an outbreak of a virus similar to the Measles. It seemed that without the nanites, their perfect health had ended and their immune systems had been left weakened, though steadily growing as they aged normally and became exposed to more things while exploring their planet.

She changed in the locker room into a pair of desert camo combats, then returned to the equipment storage room to fish out a second MALP. Bringing it through to the Gate Room, she turned on its sensors and cameras and connected its readings with the control room’s main computer.

“Second time lucky, right?” she muttered to herself, and set about dialling the coordinates to Argos, sending the MALP through once the event horizon had formed. A few seconds later, the camera feed appeared, and she was shown the bright inside of Pelop’s temple. Good news was that it was intact, and it appeared to be daylight on the other side. Air readings were in the green, everything looked good to go. Excited at the prospect of finally talking to someone, she hoisted her pack on and returned to the Gate Room, happily marching up the ramp and through the gate.

As she stepped out on the other side, exhaling and taking in a breath of the new air, the warm climate and salty sea smell immediately hit her senses. The temple looked surprisingly disused, but since the people no longer worshipped their god since learning how he had experimented on them, perhaps they no longer visited or entered the temple. Crossing through the grand structure, she had to pull on her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the strong glare of the sun, low in the sky, casting long shadows along the beach. It looked to be early evening. Other than the sound of the waves crashing into the shore, there was nothing but silence from the surrounding buildings. Maybe the people were inside eating dinner? Once her eyes had adjusted to the brightness, she noticed now that some of the houses had fallen down, while several others looked barely standing, some with missing door panels, and missing tiles from the roof. The Argosians had of course begun to explore the planet. Perhaps they had decided to build a new, permanent village away from the temple and gate instead.

Deciding to investigate the buildings here anyway, she made her way to the nearest still-standing building. It was a single-story terracotta-roofed whitehouse with two un-paned windows. Entering the open doorway and finding herself in a kitchen, she was surprised to see that the house looked ransacked. Plates were smashed. The central dining table had collapsed, its legs rotten. Probably in a bad state from the constant barrage of sea wind as opposed to the malicious workings of a person, she thought. Deciding to check the back room just in case, pushing aside the door hanging on its hinge, she froze in the doorway at the sight of the bedroom. There stood two simple wooden beds still laden with a tangle of now frayed and colour-faded bed coverings- and mixed amongst the sheets were the unmistakable, though now paled orange of the clothing she’d known the Argosians to wear. Hurrying to uncover the beds, she found three sets of clothes, all in the same state. One belonging to a male adult, one to a female adult, and one to what must have been a child in the next bed. Her heart hammered in a panic. It couldn’t be! It was impossible! She raced to the next nearest still-standing building, but found precisely the same. This time there were five sets of clothes to be found, all in the bedroom. Argos had been attacked too, and it had been while they had slept in their beds.

She simply stood in the dead bedroom, paralyzed by the sight. She couldn’t breathe. Her brain could barely process the evidence before her. Who would choose to attack the Argosians?! She couldn’t think of a people in the entire galaxy any less of a threat to anyone. Why!? How could this happen!? After the shock began to subside and she found the ability to move her legs, she glumly returned outside and sat on the beach, staring unseeing at the sinking sun. Her mind wondered back to the MALP telemetry she’d seen of Madrona. She wondered if Madrona, too, had been attacked. That would provide an explanation as to why the Touchstone wasn’t working. If there was no one there alive anymore to manually correct the weather patterns, the climate would have naturally fallen back to the default snowstorm as she’d seen before when the Touchstone had been taken.

She sighed dejectedly, and picked up a round pebble from next to her, rolled it in her palm a few times, before throwing it into the sea. She was a scientist, she reminded herself. She couldn’t let what she’d seen discourage her. She couldn’t prove her theory until she’d seen hard proof at least three times, and until then she would not permit herself to draw any conclusions. She would head through the gate one more time.

Watching an eagle-like bird swoop and attempt, but fail, to catch a fish from the water below, she forced herself to start mulling through her options. The people of the Land of Light were very kind, but she didn't want to walk through a perpetually dark forest alone to reach the village. PXY-887 was an option, too, as Earth had a long-standing trade relationship with the people on the planet to mine their trinium deposits, but she wasn’t sure if she could trust the alien “Spirits” on the planet. They were very protective of their people, and she was sure that if something similar had happened to the people there, there was a chance they might blame her. She couldn’t risk it. Casting her mind back to her more recent missions as a wave curled and crashed noisily against the shore, she thought of Vyus. Vyus was an industrial-level planet, where everyone had started life anew after the vorlix had erased their memories. While they had recovered their memories after a cure had been discovered, she felt strongly that if there were still people there, they would surely be the kind of people who would welcome her to live with them. They had, after all, accepted and forgiven Linea. The gate was also conveniently located in the centre of town, too, and she felt it seemed safe to visit alone.

Settled on her next plan of action, she stood up, tossed another stone into the sea for prosperity, and returned to the temple to gate home, bringing the MALP back with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I could be posting a happier chapter for Sam on my birthday, but I'm afraid it's going to get a lot rougher for Sam before things start getting better.


	14. Recon II

_Settled on her next plan of action, she stood up, threw one last stone into the sea, returned to the temple, and, bringing the MALP back with her, gated back to the Alpha Site._

**Day 8 continued**

This time, having changed her combats to black and repacked her gear yet again to suit the next destination, as she directed the MALP through to Vyus, she kept her hopes low. She dreaded to see any evidence that the same attack had come here. If it had, then she would have to face the fact that she might be alone in the galaxy, and that would be a very frightening reality to have to accept. 

The darkened warehouse shown by the MALP’s feed looked not dissimilar to the abandoned warehouse she had last seen on her last visit to the planet. Switching the camera to infrared and finding no life or movement among the crates and boxes, and seeing the air and radiation readings in the green zone, she decided it was safe and gave herself a go.

“Third time lucky, I hope,” she said to herself, making her way out of the Control Room and round to the Gate Room, following the path the MALP had made up the ramp and through the vortex.

She couldn’t help coughing at the dusty surroundings upon her arrival; the kawoosh must have disturbed the thick layer of dust that had been resting on several wooden containers around her. As the wormhole disengaged, the warehouse fell into a semi-darkness, lit only by a pale light struggling to break through tiny, dirtied windows on the upper level. Turning on her weapon’s side light, she made a quick sweep of her surroundings, concluding it was as safe as the MALP had shown so, and made her way up the creaking, wooden staircase to the exit. She found that the metal door was locked, but its wooden frame was in such a severe state, almost crumbling from rot, that she was able to easily ram the door down, and she came bursting out onto the outside street, feeling like she’d stepped back in time to early 20th century London. 

Except, unlike her last visit, the surrounding towering factories were silent. Their tall chimneys stood smoke-free. The nearby streetlamps looked weatherbeaten, their black paint almost rusted off. And despite the daylight, there were no bustling workers or people on the streets as she remembered. Not to mention, just like Colorado Springs, nature had clearly spent the last few decades fighting back to reclaim its land. 

Peering down the rail for a view of the lower street, she saw thick tree roots pushing through the concrete and snaking up the walls of the houses. Abandoned, primitive motor cars and fallen electricity poles criss-crossed the street, while patches of tall grass had taken to growing along cracks in the road. It looked like a ghost town, and it looked as she might expect if here had been attacked too, but, then, Linea had lived here. What if her memories had returned again somehow and she had attacked the people? It was certainly possible, and a part of her certainly hoped that had been the case. Either way, she wouldn’t leave until she could verify the cause of the state of the town.

She followed the street downwards from the warehouse on the hill, reaching a row of terraced identical houses on the street level. Several of their window frames were distorted with age and the weight of the roofs. A few chimneys had toppled, littering bricks onto the street, which she nimbly stepped over to reach the front food of the first house. Picking the lock, she entered the house stealthily, holding her breath in hope that she wouldn’t find what she dreaded to see… but yet, sure enough, as she entered the kitchen area, draped across a couple of dining chairs was the sight of full sets of clothes of a man and a woman and two children.

“Fuck!” she couldn’t help yelling, kicking at a wastebasket near the door, cascading its contents across the tiled floor. She stared at the scrunched paper-like material, before bending down to pick up the contents and return the basked to its original position. It wasn’t this family’s fault for having been vanished, and she was a better person than to take it out on their belongings, even if they were dead.

‘Who the hell did this?’ she thought deflatedly, as she left the house, returning to the empty street, almost stumbling over a deceptively large tuft of grass. She wouldn’t be able to find anything that would help answer that question here, though. Sighing in defeat, there was nothing to do but backtrack up the winding street to the warehouse and head back to the safety of the Alpha Site.

Sitting and feeling utterly defeated at the desk of her make-shift office, which had belonged to the former leader Colonel Ben Pierce, she thought of the four planets she’d now found clothes, as well as the evidence on Madrona that the same fate had happened to them. She’d seen evidence of wildlife on many of the planets, too. Elks, deer, the sound of wolves, the bird on Argos and there were crabs here, too. It wasn’t life that had been erased, it was simply all humans on worlds with a Stargate. Whether it was a deliberate attack or an unfortunate mistake, she couldn’t guess. All she knew was that she had only been spared the attack by a freak accident having been sent forward in time. A freak accident that had left her more than likely, the last woman, no, the last human in existence. 

**Day 10**

It occurred to her, as she chewed miserably on some very stale biscuits and sipped her hot, tasteless coffee two breakfasts later, that although it seemed that all humans had been erased, that wasn’t to say that all sentient beings had been erased.

The lack of humans would have killed all the Goa’uld, along with any Tok’ra stragglers, but over four and a half years in the program she’d come across plenty of other intelligent aliens. The Nox, the Unas, those naked aliens that the Colonel would make hilarious impressions of now and again, and of course- it hit her- the Asgard! Why hadn’t she thought to contact them sooner!?

After confirming the gate’s vicinity to be safe by MALP, already geared up and readied, she gated to K’Tau, making the familiar mile-or-so walk to the village just as she had done six months previously from her perspective. 

As expected, the village was run down and there were no signs of life. This time she didn’t even bother to check the inside of the houses. Making her way to the far end of the village, she gasped to see that the steeple of the church-like temple had fallen down, but thankfully the main inside structure was still standing, though barely, despite a couple of fallen roofbeams. Having to duck under one, she walked along the aisle among the pews to reach the still-standing stone obelisk where she could enter Freyr’s Hall of Wisdom. She didn’t miss the fresh piles of what seemed to be the droppings of a rather sizeable animal about a meter to the left of the obelisk. Just like Earth, the local wildlife certainly weren’t shy about reclaiming their territory after the absence of the humans, and this animal was probably big, and likely still close by, judging by the condition of the droppings and the patches of brown fur she now noticed had been shed on the pews. Some pews, she saw, also bore scratchings and markings. Hearing no movement, however, she took a gamble and activated the obelisk by touching the orange button, and out came a beam of light, engulfing her. 

She next found herself in the dark cave. Flicking on her light and gathering her bearings, she startled as the tall hologram of the Viking-looking Freyr appeared, beginning its recorded speech. Aiming her torchlight to behind the projector just as she had done not so long ago, she pulled the control panel open, switching off the hologram and signalling Freyr. However, the projector plate stood still and dark, and no Asgard appeared. She turned on the hologram and off again, hoping to get an Asgard’s attention. When five full minutes passed and nothing had happened, despite switching between the hologram and the signalling position several times, she replaced the stone to allow the Viking hologram to finish its previous speech. Once it had ended, the beaming light shone, and she was safely returned standing before the obelisk in the temple once again. She would have to try again another day. 

Skulking out the temple quietly, feeling disheartened, she set off to return back to the gate, until a sight drew her attention that made her stop. A flock of birds had gathered at several colourful trees just beyond the village. Taking out her binoculars, she could make out that they were fruit-bearing trees, the tallest ones of which were arranged in rows of what might have been an orchard, though shorter trees of all sizes had now grown interspersed between the taller, organized rows. She recalled the apple-like fruit she’d used to explain to the Colonel her idea of introducing the superheavy Maclarium element into the sun, and with any luck, she might get to taste the fruit this time. With a spring in her step, she made a beeline for the overgrown orchard, the green and red round fruit soon coming into sight. These were definitely the same fruit, and felt incredibly grateful to have found them growing in season at this time. She hadn’t had fresh food in a week and a half! She didn’t hesitate to chase off the birds, and helped herself to a ripe-looking, red one, checking it wasn’t infested by alien bugs. Satisfied, she sank her teeth into the fruit’s flesh, savouring the juicy fruit and sweet taste. It might have been the tastiest apple she’d ever tasted! Grabbing a few other ripe, untouched alien apples and stowing them in her pack, she leisurely returned to the gate, munching on her apple. At least this mission hadn’t been a total bust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I'm not super mean torturing Sam the entire time. She got tasty apples, so that's... something ;)


End file.
